


Birds of a Feather: Book One

by 99terminater



Series: Birds of a Feather [1]
Category: Maximum Ride - James Patterson
Genre: Action/Adventure, Bitterness, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Development, Developing Relationship, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Friendship, Gen, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Mild Language, OC, Original Character(s), POV First Person, Series, Snark, Violence, mid series
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-24
Updated: 2013-04-28
Packaged: 2017-11-26 17:05:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 29,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/652506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/99terminater/pseuds/99terminater
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I never expected to escape the School, like the Flock had years earlier, or be alive when I did. Nor had I expected to run in them so soon, if ever - let alone at a hospital and before going to live with them at an FBI agent's house. But none of that means any of us are in the clear yet, not even close.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Run

**Author's Note:**

> So!
> 
> Here's the prologue/first chapter of the first book (of three) of Birds of a Feather. Book One goes from So-F to Final Warning, Book Two is MAX to Angel, and Book Three is Nevermore and beyond.
> 
> I made a tumblr for it, which can be found at mrboaf.tumblr.com -- mostly just so you guys can ask questions.
> 
> Chapters 2 and 3 will be up shortly, as I've already written those and are the chapters that are on fanfiction.net, which will be at the same pace as AO3, though I'll be deleting the later chapters as I'm rewriting it.

_Run_ , I urged myself silently, bare feet slapping against the white floor as I tried to remember where the nearest exit was. Adrenaline pumped through my veins, a reminder that _no it’s not over yet._

I rammed into a whitecoat as I passed, slamming him against the wall and sending the shock cuff in his hands clattering to the ground. But I only heard it happen – the speed at which my legs were pumping sent me hallways down by the time the whitecoat started screaming for the Erasers to come.

Just like the dozen other whitecoats that I had crossed.

“Look, sweetie,” _she_ had said hurriedly, crouching to get a more level look into my cage, not even two hours ago. “When they come to get you, just run. Push past them and run. Run and don’t look back.”

With that, _she_ had left, leaving me more confused over her words than why she had taken the risk to see me again.

Then two, fully-morphed Erasers rushed out of an upcoming corridor.

_Don’t look back,_ I echoed, pushing my legs faster and forcing back the shrieks of sheer terror and panic that rose up when I saw the canine men, the _wolf_ men. I slipped between them, breaking one’s kneecap with a sharp kick and knocking the other out with a swift elbow to the temple.

I ran down the way they came, weaving around anyone I came across instead of losing speed running them down. And that’s what I kept doing – running as I searched for an exit, failing, and running again.

Just running running _running._

_Run,_ damn it! I snapped at myself, hissing lowly when a fallen Eraser managed to nick my leg with a poorly aimed bullet.

Then, before I knew it, I was _out_.

I ignored the urge to look around and take in the beauty of it all –the pure, natural air uncorrupted by anti-septic, the faintest colors shown in the grayscale of night, the moon and stars shining in the dark sky– and instead took a running leap, snapping my wings open and propelling myself upward and into the air.

But there was no ceiling that limited my height, and within seconds I was soaring dozens, _hundreds_ , of feet in the cool air. Adrenaline draining out of my system, I looked down in shock, disbelief, and who knew how many other emotions down at the School, now only a small dot on the landscape.

Tiny slivers of moonlight reflected off of what I thought was air until it hit me. I gently touched my cheek, feeling a stream of warm, salty tears slip down my face. But I wasn’t sad, I wasn’t in pain, and as a matter of fact, I was probably closer to feeling “happy” than I ever had before.

The muscled in my face started to twinge, and then pull, turning my mouth upward in what I assumed was a smile, or maybe a grin.

My shoulders started shaking, and without realizing what I was doing I threw my head back.

Then, for the first time in my life, I didn’t giggle, I didn’t snort – I _laughed_.


	2. When Erasers Fly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here's the first "proper" chapter, though it's much shorter than the norm as you'll soon find out.
> 
> As usual, the tumblr is at:
> 
> mrboaf.tumblr.com

I jumped to a start, and quietly cursed to myself when I realized I’d been sleeping for too long. The roughly three weeks I’d managed to stay out of the School had been pretty boring, though not entirely uneventful:

  * A) The first thing I’d done was steal a proper outfit from a mall and chopped most of my hair off so it only went a few inches past my shoulders.


  * B) I’d had a couple run-ins with Erasers, which was actually a good thing since it let me know I was on the right track – they hadn’t been sent after me, meaning they’d been sent after the Flock. Plus after a while, I’d been able to differentiate between fully-morphed Erasers and actual wolves.


  * C) I’d almost gotten used to the lack of near-24/7 experiments, so I could sleep for a few hours at a time. Eventually, I might even be able to sleep a whole eight hours.



I hopped off the tree branch I was perched on and threw my wings open, catching air and beginning my flight. Which was where the boring part kicked in again – other than resting and stealing food, the only thing I did was fly.

Of course, I was looking for the Flock –a group of other human-avian hybrids, like me– who had been broken out of the School by some whitecoat four years ago.

True, I highly doubted they’d trust me right off the bat, and I wasn’t even sure if they’d let me in, but I wouldn’t know until I tried.

After a while –AKA eight hours straight of flying– I decided I should land and rest before I was too tired to get food.

I faltered, a couple hundred feet above the narrow, rocky shore bordering the black ocean that was slowly regaining its color as dawn approached.

Should I even _try_ doing that? While it was so much more _thrilling_ , so much more _exhilarating,_ and so much more _terrifying_ than dive-bombing, it was just as additionally _dangerous._

With dive-bombing, you had at least a few thousand feet to put on the brakes and soar back up before you went splat like a bug on a windshield. But if you tried doing a Dive & Roll, –or at least, that’s what _I_ called it– you had a few _hundred_ feet to either screech to a stop and head back up, or decide to wimp out of it and crash land, rolling around like you were falling down a hill.

And if you actually _did it?_ If done right, you might get a few scrapes on your hands or scuff up your clothes. If you did it wrong, well, it could lead to anything from a sprained wrist to broken bones to a possibly cracked-open skull.

_Why not?_ I thought amusedly, smirking.

With that, I flapped once before diving at an angle towards the ground, arms outstretched as I tucked my wings in.

Within seconds my palms touched the ground, and I quickly twisted my arms around so my head wouldn’t crash against the rocky beach.

There was a split second where everything was balanced, where it felt like I was literally weightless. But then the energy from my dive down kicked in, and I felt my back bend as I flipped over for the first time.

I almost let out a stream of curses, before deciding that I preferred having my tongue in one piece even as the world flipped over faster than I could count.

As soon as I slowed down enough, I slammed my feet into the sand, the built up energy unraveling me from my ball and nearly hurling me face-first onto the ground. I lurched forward and almost fell, the world seeming to spin even as I rubbed the heels of my hands into my eyes.

Yet I couldn’t keep the dopey grin off my face – like I said, there was _nothing_ more thrilling than diving towards the ground and preventing your death at the last second.

True, the spinning-head could last anywhere from ten seconds to half an hour, with a possible, longer lasting headache which was annoying, but still.

Feeling the apparently wet sand try and stick to my foot when I moved it away, I looked down, puzzled.

I felt a chill go down my spine, and quickly stumbled off of the soaked sand.

Blood.

A lot of it.

Just keep in mind that this was _me_ – someone who’s _used_ to inhumane, nightmarish experiments as well as the mutilated victims that came from them.

And that soaked area of sand had to have a pint of blood in it, if not more.

I took a deep breath and slowly turned around, ignoring the sound of birds hovering nearb–

_Wait_ , a lump formed in my throat and I looked up, horrorstruck.

_Flying Erasers._

“Looks like one of the birdies got out of their cage,” the lead Eraser taunted, oddly familiar features disfigured by the partial-morph he seemed to be stuck in. Then he grinned wickedly, fur erupting from his skin and facial structure rearranging to form a muzzle that jutted out unnaturally from his head. “Let’s take care of that, shall we?”

* * *

With that, all the Erasers tucked in their retrofitted wings, morphing from their normal, supermodel appearances to their wolfish forms as they hit the sand around me.

Immediately adrenaline poured into my system, heartbeat thudding in my ears like it always did as I prepared to take them out.

There were about twenty of them, the only problem being that these Erasers weren’t dumb enough to attack me one or two at a time.

But like I said – the _only_ problem. They’d be down and out in five minutes. I gave them eight or ten at the most.

Everything after that was just the swift blur of going through the familiar motions over and over again – dodge, punch, weave, kick.

An Eraser –one of the remaining six– lunged at me and I sidestepped, holding a leg out to send him lurching forward. Before he could recover, I raised a leg and sent a hard kick down onto the top of his head, sending it slamming into one of the black rocks.

There was a sickening, grotesque _pop_ as his skull cracked open, blood and brain matter splattering outward.

I froze and stumbled a few steps back, eyes widening and wings slackening open by my sides, primary feathers trailing in the sand.

Don’t get me wrong, I’d killed Erasers before, but…

But not– not like _this._

My struggling breaths were quickly overpowered something else – an intense, burning pain as ragged claws tore into my lower back.

I screamed in both shock and pain, the blow knocking me sideways. The burning sensation only expanded when I skid across the sand, the small grains slicing the already shredded flesh and no doubt earning me an infection later.

Forced to take gasping breaths, I somehow managed to flip over and push myself onto stumbling feet. The last Erasers were staying back, but the disorientation made it impossible to tell whether they were moving or not.

My mind immediately started thinking of how I could take the rest of them out without getting torn up anymore, and how I had to treat my wound.

But with the blood slipping down my back and quickly soaking my clothes, came a realization.

This wasn’t the School, there weren’t any brilliant minds who were capable of having me survive being torn to shreds without leaving a single mark behind.

And even if there was, they didn’t care about keeping me alive anymore.

Instinctively, my legs started moving, sending me shooting off and away from the beach. I shrugged off my jacket and folded it into a pad with fumbling hands, bending my arms awkwardly around my back to press it against the gashes that were practically gushing blood.

Struggling not to trip, I let myself look back at the few Erasers left on the beach.

The lead Eraser was grinning maliciously at me, eyes boring straight into mine. His arm was held out, claws covered and dripping with blood, in front of another Eraser, who was shaking with bloodlust as he snarled at me.

“Don’t worry,” he sneered, sounding like he was behind a wall and hundreds of meters away instead of hundreds of feet. “She won’t get anywhere, not like that.”

“And if she _does_ go anywhere,” he almost sounded excited, though I had no idea if he was actually talking or if I was just imaging it as I turned my head back around, struggling to keep my feet moving as blood started to seep between and over my fingers. “It’ll be in a body bag.”

* * *

My vision had long blurred into near indistinguishable smears of color, blood already covering my hands and creeping down the thighs of my jeans.

Everything I heard sounded muffled, and I could barely think as I managed to push myself farther, stumbling in a run towards a refuge that I knew didn’t exist.

There was large, vision-engulfing streak of black that I somehow knew had nothing to do with the spots that were haphazardly obscuring my eyesight in a never ending string.

Then the ground dropped suddenly by a few inches, throwing off my balance as my body weight sent me sprawling onto the hard, sun-warmed ground that violently scrapped one of my cheeks and the side of one hand.

When a high, sharp, and strangely close sound reached my ears, I realized how hard of a time I was having breathing. Every intake was a rough, shallow gasp that burned my throat, but the air it gave me was so little that my mouth barely moved when I exhaled.

There were heavily muffled shouts, words that I knew I could’ve made out if I tried but… I was so _tired_ , my eyelids forcing themselves closed like I didn’t want anything different.

Every cell in my body felt drained, exhausted. And not just from being wounded, from _this_ – the experiments, the pain, being forbidden from dying when I couldn’t even get a chance to live.

I felt a faint pressure behind my shoulders and under my knees and the warmth disappeared from my side, leaving me feeling colder than the artic seas.

Yet I was oddly comfortable, my muscles relaxing to the point of limpness as my breathing slowed into a soothing tempo.

But at the same time, there was a small, saner part of me that was screaming. Protesting that this wasn’t how it was supposed to end, only to quiet itself when it accepted what was happening.

Funny how you only got what you wanted when you didn’t want it anymore.


	3. The Flock

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you'll find out in this chapter, I tend to make full-length chapters at least 4,000 words, though this one overshot at 6,500. XD
> 
> BoaF tumblr: mrboaf.tumblr.com

I was alive.

That was the first thing I realized, making my eyes snap open.

The second thing I realized: _I wished I wasn’t._

Everything, _everything_ was just stark white white _white._

A scream stuck itself in my throat before it could escape, but it was enough to take an unintentional breath. A breath that made me smell the all too familiar burning odor of chemicals and cleaners and _anti-septic._

Instinctively I bolted upright, only to let out a loud cry when a burning, _tearing_ pain erupted in my lower back and made me fall down against the thin mattress.

I swallowed hard and took gasping breaths, hands subconsciously clenching and unclenching as I tried to forget, tried to _not remember_.

The sudden flare of pain as claws sliced into the flesh of my back. The blood running down my legs as I kept running running _running_. The cold–

_Slam!_

I jumped, head whipping around to see a frazzled woman wearing a _white freaking coat_ standing in the doorway. She was frozen for a fraction of a second before she screamed something back into the hall, though I couldn’t make out what she said over the low ringing in my ears.

The woman rushed over to me and I jerked back, seeing her lips move as she spoke to me rapidly, frantically. The ringing in my ears dissipated just in time for me to catch the end of whatever she said.

“–you’re going to have to flip over, okay?”

I stared at her in shock, my words stuck in my throat as my thoughts swirled.

 _They don’t do this_ , the back of my mind hissed, waiting for the burning pulse of electricity or to be strapped down and have more whitecoats come in with syringes, scalpels, and other medical equipment at hand.

 _They wouldn’t,_ it continued, reminding me of how everyone other than _her_ had treated me like a thing. Like I was some inanimate object that couldn’t feel, couldn’t _hurt_. _They_ can’t.

Memories flashed through my head like the flickering of a light going on and off.

Masked faces hovering around me as I laid on an operating table, strapped down so I couldn’t move. Being forced to push past my limits even after I had already broken them. Seeing them jot down notes through the thick pane of glass, just _watching_ as–

“ _Okay?_ ” the woman repeated sternly, probably only a second later.

I tried to remember what she said earlier, nodding numbly before carefully flipping myself over, feeling the break in the damaged muscle as it stretched and flexed around the wound.

After hearing a few rips, I could practically feel her hands tugging at something, making my skin pinch and sting, and that’s when I realized I had stitches to seal the gashes in my back – stitches that I had ripped open when I bolted up.

Which only jumbled my thoughts even more.

 _They wouldn’t do this,_ my mind hissed again, except this time I knew without a doubt that it was true. If the whitecoats found me, or if I had been taken to them, they would’ve just let me die.

 _Then where am I?_ I remembered someone picking me up easily enough, but I didn’t know what happened. But more importantly, I didn’t know _who._

I heard footsteps echoing across the tile flooring as someone rushed in. The woman muttered a barely audible thank you before I felt small slicing pains, each quickly followed by a tugging sensation as the woman began to rapidly redo my stitches.

She only paused to shout out into the hall again, this time about equipment for a blood transfusion. “And for the _love of God_ ,” she called, half-exasperated and half-aggravated. “Remember to bring blood _substitute!_ ”

I stiffened, my mind automatically wondering _how the hell she knew._

My red blood cells had nuclei in them, like a bird’s, which meant regular blood was out of the question for a transfusion. It also meant there was no way for it to have been used _without killing me_ , so the real question was – _who told her?_

“They were worried, you know,” the woman said, going back to sewing the rips in my back.

“ _Who?_ ” I chocked out, the confusion making it easier to stay where I was and not run out of there like a bat out of hell, wounded or no.

“When you passed out, a couple saw you and drove you here,” the woman explained. “They went back home around forty minutes ago, after they found out your surgery had gone fine.”

I swallowed, the not-all-too-horrific truth starting to click together.

I wasn’t at the School – _I was at a_ hospital _._

But that didn’t mean I was safe, not at all.

Hospitals meant doctors who _had treated me_ , and seeing as how I wasn’t dead, they _knew_. Not just about the nuclei, or the wings – _everything._

It made me feel sick, just thinking about it.

“How?” I forced out over the lump in my throat, resisting the urge to gag.

“How what?” she inquired, and I felt the tug-and-pull sensations stop when she finished putting the stitches back in.

“How do you _know?_ ” I ground out, digging my fingers into the thin hospital bed so I wouldn’t bolt.

She didn’t respond, though I still pushed myself up when she started wrapping bandages around my midsection. That was when I realized the bottom of my shirt had been cut off so they could access the gashes on my back.

Then I remembered my wings would cover the gashes if they were tucked in like normal, and felt a surge of raw panic and fear. Consciously keeping myself from screaming and freaking out, I swallowed hard and shook my wings out a bit, nearly sighing in relief when I felt my feathers brush against the railings of my bed.

I could practically see her shake her head as she clipped the loose end of the bandages down. “Well–“

Then, of _course_ , someone came with the blood substitute for the transfusion.

I grit my teeth and forced myself to flip back over, ignoring the spike of pain. The woman slid the bag onto the other side of the IV stand, the sudden heaviness of my eyelids making me notice how drowsy and flat out _groggy_ I really felt.

Well, at least how groggy I _should have_ felt, if I wasn’t so used to it and had long learned how to work around it.

I instinctively flinched and nearly snatched my arm away when she swabbed my skin and stuck the needle into the back of my hand and taped it down.

“I’ll be right back,” she said, before walking off to dispose of the blood soaked bandages.

Yeah, like I _wanted_ her around.

* * *

“Who told you?” I repeated as soon as she walked back into my room, narrowing my eyes at her.

“Umm… what?” the woman said oh-so-intelligently, blinking.

“Who.Told. _You?_ ” I snarled, only resisting the urge to cross my arms because of the needles stuck in my left arm.

“About what?” her brow furrowed in confusion, only making me angrier.

“What do you _think?_ ” I spat, unfolding my wings enough so that they were clearly visible. “How about the nuclei in my red blood cells? Or my heartbeat? Or, _I don’t know_ , how about every _other_ change that comes with being a human-avian _freak?_ ”

She frowned in disapproval when I called myself a freak, only making me want to growl.

“ _Well?!_ ” I snapped, digging my fingers in the bed so my hands wouldn’t start shaking.

Not that that stopped my arms or shoulders from doing so.

“Actually,” the woman started carefully, before locking her gaze on mine. “Others came here a little before you did.”

I took a deep breath, trying not to get my hopes up. “What do you mean, ‘others’?”

“Other human-avian hybrids,” she admitted bluntly, and I swore my heart skipped a beat.

“How many?” my throat felt tight, and I had to remind myself when to breathe so I wouldn’t hyperventilate.

“At least two,” she said, locking her eyes on me when my throat caught. “Possibly six.”

I tried to swallow the lump in my throat, and clenched my eyes shut in an attempt to calm down. “How do you know?”

“One of the older boys was seriously injured,” she explained. “The eldest girl explained some of his… _changes…_ by showing us her own. The others, well, we can only assume with them.”

I nodded slowly and took a deep, shuddering breath before opening my eyes. “Alright,” I said shakily, looking over at the woman. “Anything else you want to drop on me?”

She nodded, smiling a bit as she started to head out of the room. “You have a visitor,” she informed me gently, nodding a bit before she ducked out into the hallway to fetch whoever it was.

I tried to slow my breathing, my heart thundering in my ears as one thought kept echoing around in my head. One thought that kept me from panicking, kept me from freaking out over who my visitor was – who it could _easily be_.

_The Flock is here._

* * *

By the time the woman came back with the visitor, my sort-of excitement had worn off and my jitteriness and paranoia had come back full force.

So as soon as I heard the clack of their shoes on the tile, I jumped and looked over at them, my mind continuously trying to get me to become lost in the nightmares that made up my life.

The woman quickly told my visitor –a blonde woman who’s age I couldn’t pinpoint– to not push me before scurrying off somewhere else.

"Who are you?” I demanded immediately, voice trembling slightly.

“I’m Anne Walker,” she introduced, walking up and holding out a hand for me to shake. “From the FBI.”

I immediately stiffened, starting to hear my heart pound in ears. She was with the government – probably one of the worst people I could run into other than someone from the School.

I took shaky breaths and tried to focus on something other than the ways I could easily knock her out and/or kill her from my position in the bed if she tried anything.

“FBI, huh?” I forced out, keeping my eyes on her to see when and if she did anything suspicious.

Anne nodded and pulled her hand back, taking a step away as if she could sense how jittery I was.

“We’ve heard about you,” she said, making me freeze as the air was sucked out of my lungs. “Rumors have been filtering into the intelligence community for years about a hidden lab producing viable recombinant life-forms. But it’s never been verified, and people have always dismissed it as urban-legend. Needless to say, just the possibility it could be true – well, we’ve got people assigned to finding out and cataloguing info, hearsay, or suspicion about you. You and the others.”

I took a shaky breath and let it sink in. They weren’t even sure we existed up until now. But _of course_ they wouldn’t try to go and actually _search_ for the hidden lab, of course not. Wouldn’t want to ruin their perfect little world with the horrors they knew they’d face – the horrors they knew _people were going through._

 _Of_ course _not._

Anne leaned back, eyes on me as she carefully gauged my reactions. “So you see, we consider you important. We’d like to know everything about you. But _more_ important, if the stories are true, then our entire country’s safety could be at risk – if you and the others were to get into the wrong hands. You don’t know your own power.”

I ground my teeth and decided to let her finish, even though I wanted to shout and yell and show her just how stupid and crazy the idea was, how _angry_ it made me.

She let it sink in before smiling ruefully. “How about we make a trade? You give us a chance to learn about you –in nonpainful, noninvasive ways– and we’ll give you a safe place to stay. You can rest up, eat, get better, and then decide what to do from there.”

I tried to keep myself calm, keep myself from snapping at the absurdity of it. I had spent my _entire life_ being experimented, being “ _learned_ ”about.

What the hell made her think I’d even _consider_ going back to that, even if her so-called methods were “nonpainful” and “noninvasive”?

“No,” I practically spat, ignoring Anne’s shock. “There is no way in _hell_ I am _ever_ going to let _anyone_ ‘learn’”–the word was coated with so much bitterness and venom that I wasn’t surprised when she flinched–“about me _ever again_.”

I swallowed thickly, trying to calm the burning–

“The others agreed to it,”

I froze, whipping my head around to gape at her in shock. “They _what?!_ ” I hissed, narrowing my eyes at her in a glare.

Anne nodded, seeming almost smug. “The others agreed that they’d come and stay at my house for a while. Food, clothes, and anything else they might need all included.”

I swallowed again, staring at her. “You mean to tell me that they agreed to stay _at your_ house?” I would’ve been shrieking if I wasn’t so shocked.

She nodded again. “Of course, you’ll be provided with the same privileges if you accept. And I’m willing to bet you want to meet them, seeing as how you were found alone.”

I took a shuddery breath as she hit the nail on the head, resisting the urge to curl up into a ball and just sob and cry and scream until I couldn’t do anything anymore.

_Alone._

The word practically mocked me, shoved in my face how I’d never had anyone beside me, how I’d had to go through years and _years_ of hell _alone._

Even _she_ had left me eventually.

“Alright,” I croaked wearily, leaning my head back and letting my eyes slide shut, feeling like I might cry. “I’ll go and stay with you and the others at your house.”

I heard her shoes clack against the tile as she left the room.

And the Flock?

Ever since I’d ever _heard_ of them, I’d wanted to see them, to join them – _to become part of their family._

And this – this was probably the only chance I’d get to even meet them.

I knew they wouldn’t trust me at first, wouldn’t even consider letting me stick with them for a while.

But even if they hated me, even if they saw me as a nuisance, even if I _never_ became one of them–

Even if I they left me and I wound up alone again–

I think I’d still like to know, at least for a little while.

I’d… I’d still like to know what it was like to– to–

_To not be alone._

* * *

“I…I don’t believe this…” the woman murmured to herself, knowing better than to try and touch the wound since my returned soberness made me as jittery and attentive as I _should have been_ since I first woke up.

The doctor had come in this morning –or at least I assumed it was morning– to change my bandages, waking me up from my unusually deep sleep in the process.

I guess even the oldest of habits can be broken with a little exhaustion and a fatal wound or two.

After a minute or two of her being unable to spit out just what was so unbelievable, I decided to take the situation into my own hands.

It only took concentration and a bit of imagination, my vision changing after a few seconds.

Faster than the blink of an eye my sight had gone from the wall of the hospital room that nearly gave me a panic attack, to the back of a bird-girl with unnaturally straight hair and thin, pink lines of scar tissue across her lower back.

Who, in case you couldn’t tell, was _me_.

I –and other experiments as well– had had skills blueprinted into our DNA courtesy of the whitecoats. Some skills took far longer to manifest, others didn’t turn out quite right, and then there were those that weren’t even planned.

Basically, the whitecoats had messed with our DNA so we weren’t just mutant freaks, but mutant freaks with what you could call superpowers.

True, some weren’t all that super and could be as simple as heightened senses, and they were in no way worth the years of torture, but they weren’t among any of the skills you would or _could_ find naturally.

One of my skills –I actually had a handful of skills, though I rarely used them or their “sub-skills”– just so happened to be able to see what someone else was seeing. Back at the School, I’d used it to peak at restricted files or the occasional blueprint, but this was the first time to use it to actually look at _myself._

“Well?” I sighed irritably, seeing just how much my body was actually shaking and deciding I would have been better off as a leaf. I jerked up straighter when the woman raised her hand up to hover over the scars, feeling my arm trying to move and mimic the action.

“It’s…” she swallowed. “It’s almost completely healed,”

I rolled my eyes and smirked bitterly, pushing off of the bed to stand up after I broke the connection.

 _We had to survive that crap_ somehow.

Immediately the woman snapped her head up to look at me, throwing an arm in front of me.

“You still need to rest!” she cried in a panic. “Just because the others are leaving–“

It was my turn to whip my head around towards her, the shock and spike of panic managing to shoot the fear out of my system momentarily.

“They’re _what?!_ ” I snapped, staring at her.

She swallowed and avoided my gaze, realizing her mistake. “They’re leaving,” she repeated, dropping her arm. “Anne’s taking them to her house.”

I took a shaky breath, keeping my eyes on the woman. “Where are they?” I asked quietly, with a threatening undertone.

The hidden meaning was crystal clear: _Tell me or else._

She sighed, looking me up and down for a very twitchy few seconds as she made sure I wasn’t faking my recovery.

Well, my _physical_ recovery – a kindergartner could tell there was something wrong with how I was shaking uncontrollably, how I freaked whenever anyone tried to touch me, how I was paranoid and panicky.

But _that_ recovery would take years, and that was only the overall recovery. And even then I’d panic if I was put in a small space, plus I _knew_ I’d have a breakdown if I were to ever see a wolf again.

Thank god Erasers looked nothing like actual wolves.

“Come on,” she mumbled, leading me out of the room.

* * *

It took about thirty seconds spent half-following the woman and half-trying to block old memories from surfacing and giving me a panic attack until we approached the Flock’s room.

After another doctor huffed out of the room and I nearly pressed into the wall to stay away from him, I was able to hear the conversations going on inside.

“…clear up the paperwork. It’ll take about an hour and a half to drive to my home. I live in northern Virginia. Okay?”

That was clearly Anne – and from what I could tell she and the others were leaving.

_Without me._

I locked my jaw and lengthened my strides, ignoring for the umpteenth time how the dried blood down the right leg of my jeans made the fabric stiff. It scratched against my skin to the point I was sure that the flesh was going to be raw.

“Yeah,”

Female, at least as old as I was, with a tone that clearly made her out as the person in control, in charge – and made it blatantly obvious who she was.

Maximum Ride.

The oh-so-famous leader of the Flock, and according to the whitecoats their most successful experiment. Even though they saw the most potential in Subject Eleven and believed that Eleven would progress more, they always thought of Maximum as the best of the best.

 _No wonder she named herself “Maximum,”_ I thought almost bitterly.

By the time I stepped one foot into the Flock’s room, Anne was already turned around to make her way out.

She froze mid-step, her eyes widening in shock as her mouth opened and closed repeatedly, like she had no idea whether she should speak or not.

But when she did, her face was faintly red and her eyes were narrowed into an almost-but-not-quite glare. “Just _what_ do you think you’re doing out of bed?”

I resisted the urge to growl and scowled back instead. “I heard you were leaving,” I clipped, crossing my arms in the hopes it would lessen the violent shaking.

Needless to say, it didn’t.

Anne sighed and sent a defeated, questioning look towards the other woman, who I could tell was standing outside in the hallway.

The woman sighed and I could practically imagine her shrugging. “Hey,” she said exasperatedly, sighing again. “ _They’re_ the ones who know what they’re talking about, not us.”

I smirked, feeling almost smug even as my brain was screaming at me how much it sounded like something _she_ would say, a part of my subconscious making me remember the recent words like _she had said them._

It made my expression fall, but I quickly forced the arrogant expression back up, sending Anne a haughty look as I raised an eyebrow.

Anne frowned, studying me for a few seconds to study my condition.

“Alright,” she said, walking to the side and waving an arm towards me, her gaze on the others.

“Everyone,” she began, sounding like she was about to make a speech. “This is…”

She trailed off a bit, hand hovering over my shoulder as she silently told me to introduce myself. For once I had to give her credit – she was having me introduce myself to them in a way that made it seem like she already knew who I was, and whatever I told them _wasn’t_ going to be equally new to all of them.

I decided to play along, sending her pointed glare to buy time as I wracked my brain for the most generic names I could think of.

“Sarah,” I said after a moment, looking back to the Flock as I shifted my weight to my other foot. “Sarah Williams.”

Anne nodded, pulling her arm back and smiling at them. “She’ll be staying with us at my house.”

Maximum scowled at her, and I absentmindedly wondered when she’d snap.

“Look, Anne,” she said, trying to keep her patience. “Just because we agreed to go to your house doesn’t mean we’ll let you bring whoever… you…”

She and the rest of the Flock gaped when I unfurled my left wing a few feet out, figuring it would be easier to just show them rather than having Anne try and fail at negotiating.

Anne forced her gaze away to lock eyes with the baffled Maximum. “Well?” she said, smiling in a way that made it look almost goofy. “Are we good?”

Maximum smoothed out her expression and looked calmly back at the woman, eyes flicking back over to me more than a few times even after I folded my wing back in. “Yeah,” she said evenly, a faint weariness on her face. “We’re good.”

Anne gave a quick goodbye and left the room, closing the door behind her to give us some privacy as we used our time to “get to know each other” as she no doubt went to take as much time as possible to finish the paperwork.

I took deep breath and walked over to sit on the edge of the empty bed, trying to relax the grip my hands had on my biceps since the last thing I wanted to do was simultaneously give myself giant bruises, scratches, and shredded sleeves.

Actually, the last one probably didn’t matter much since my shirt was already cut in half and bloodstained.

Yet it was still nothing compared to my jeans – they had all the eyes in the room boring into me as they saw the single, wide trail of dried blood that ran down the back of my right leg. A noticeable amount of blood had also gotten on my left leg, though no farther down than my knee.

“So,” Maximum went on with a steel edge to her voice, moving to stand in front of me with her arms crossed defensively in an ironic mirror to my own. “Who are you?”

“Me?” I felt a sick grin split my face, for no reason other than the odd mix of panic and giddiness that was running through me. Had any of them labeled me as a basket case, I wouldn’t have bothered to really correct them. “I’m Violet.”

* * *

“What about you guys?”

 “What lab are you from?” Maximum demanded, ignoring the question and narrowing her eyes into a glare.

I raised an eyebrow, not finding it in myself to be surprised that there were _more_ whitecoat labs. “School,” I answered after a beat, tone as neutral as ever.

Based on the instant reactions of shock, I took it that they had honestly thought that they were the last bird-kids at the School.

“You’re kidding me, right?” I quipped after a pregnant silence, voice sounding a strange mix between exasperation and disbelief. “You didn’t _honestly_ think you were the only human-avian hybrids, did you?” A mocking laugh tore from my throat only to be cut off when the interrogation continued.

“What skills do you have?” at that point, I wasn’t sure if the undertone to her words was because she saw me as a threat or because I was ticking her off.

“Do you just want the basics, or do you want me to go into all the specifics?” despite what you might think, that was actually a necessary question – if you divided my skills into separate ones based on exactly what I could do, you’d at least double the list.

She clenched her jaw, and I saw the wary look in her eyes as she visibly paused to go through the most dangerous possibilities. “The basics are fine,”

I sighed and leaned back, closing my eyes as I let my wings loosen comfortably. “I can read thoughts, let someone see what someone else is seeing, communicate with people mentally in two-way conversations, and create mental links that allow for mental group conversations.”

I paused for a second, making sure I had gotten everything before letting my eyes slide back open.

They were all gawking, with slack jaws and giant eyes. Maximum was the only one with a calm face, though I knew she was just faking for appearances.

“You–“ the little blond boy choked out, reminding me of Ari so much it made my heart clench. I hadn’t seen the kid in years, but I still remembered him as well as I remembered _her_. “ _You can read minds?_ ”

I sighed and brought a hand up to rub my forehead – while reading thoughts and reading minds were extremely similar concepts, the limits were far from close.

“No, kiddo, I can’t,” I let my hand drop and grimaced when I accidentally used the pet name I had called Ari by years ago. “When you read minds, you have access to anything and _everything_ in their head at the moment – subconscious and conscious thoughts, opinions, emotions, images… you name it and they have access to it.”

I rolled my shoulders and unfolded my arms to rub my palms off on my jeans. “But when you read thoughts, you only have access to the thoughts they’re consciously putting in their head – thoughts they’re _aware of_. Basically, you only have access to what _they_ have access to.”

By the time the kid was nodding in understanding, the rest of the Flock had regained at least most of their composure.

I flicked my gaze between them before looking back at Maximum. “So,” I said, crossing my arms again when I realized they were still shaking. “What about you guys?”

Her eyes narrowed further in suspicion, and I could tell she was ready to kick my ass if necessary.

Not like she’d be able to, though.

“What?” I smirked at her. “It’s common courtesy to tell someone your names after they’ve told you theirs.” I shrugged and almost-smiled, if only to piss off the Flock leader more. “You’d _think_ you’d have learned that by now, what with how long you’ve been out.”

“But,” I grinned cockily at her, tilting my head to the side. “I guess not.”

It was as plain as day that Maximum was ready to all but rip my head off, yet I couldn’t find it in myself to really care.

“So, um,” the African-American girl coughed awkwardly, trying to diffuse the situation as she looked between us repeatedly. Yet the spark in her eyes gave me the feeling that she was curious, curious to the point where she could’ve asked me questions for hours on end without getting bored. “How long have _you_ been out?”

My expression dropped into a frown, and I found myself avoiding their eyes. “Three weeks, maybe three and a half.”

I clenched my eyes shut as I felt the shock and horror fill the room – they hadn’t thought that maybe I’d just gotten out, and I could practically imagine Maximum going from angry to sympathetic along with the others.

I _hated_ it.

I knew my life sucked, knew that for some reason I’d been stuck at the School for more years of hell while the Flock had escaped. They didn’t need to shove it in my face more than it already had been, as if a second ago they’d actually cared.

“Hi,” the cheery voice ripped me from my thoughts, and I opened my eyes to see the little blonde standing next to Maximum, grinning at me. “I’m Angel, and this is my dog Total.”

On cue, a black Scottie managed to jump onto the bed next to me, with his owner soon following.

“I can read minds,” she informed me, scratching Total behind his ears. _That_ definitely explained why the blond kid had though I could. “Breathe underwater, and kinda control people with my mind.”

I nodded, feeling almost touched at how Angel was reaching out to me.

Then, like dominoes, the introductions began.

* * *

Gazzy AKA the Gasman, the blond boy who reminded me of Ari, was Angel’s brother. He could mimic voices and throw his voice, also having skills in terms of bomb-making.

Nudge, the curious African-American girl, was a chatterbox and apparently _very_ good with computers, also capable of sensing past emotions and actions when she touched something if the leftover vibrations were strong enough.

She had been the one to ask about my wings –technically speaking, ask about my primary and second feathers, coverts excluded– and hair. I had to spend a few minutes explaining how the whitecoats had injected a serum into my wings that had adjusted what spectrums of light my primary and secondary feathers absorbed, changing them from their natural midnight color into a dark, almost black shade of purple.

It was supposed to wear off after a month, which is why they repeated the project with my hair. But apparently they’d flunked with _something_ , making my black hair not only dark purple but making my curls pin-straight.

And after _that_ I had to explain that my name came from something totally unrelated to the color project – a while after the Flock had escaped, I’d vented some of my pent up anger on a whitecoat by kicking my cage door into his face as soon as he had unlocked it.

I’d broken his nose, knocked out some of his teeth, possibly fractured his jaw, and left his face purple for more than a week afterward.

The Flock had somehow managed to all look both humored and smug at the same time

Anyway, back to what I was saying.

Iggy, one of the kids my age who it had taken a bit for me to realize was blind, seemed to be Gazzy’s partner-in-crime and was just as skilled in bomb making if not more.

Fang, another kid my age with dark hair and eyes, was the one who had been injured by what I could only assume was an Eraser.

Maximum, or Max as she’d introduced –apparently her full name just for show–, didn’t have any skills other than her ability to lead, even though she was just as old as me.

Anne had come in right after Gazzy had fallen on his butt after _insisting_ that he could move around fine with his sight swapped.

I had been was _way_ too amused to ask if he was okay.

Then again, so had everyone else.

When we walked out of the hospital, I felt all my muscles relax and the memories in the back of my head that had long been itching to resurface disappear with the wind.

But then, as we headed towards the parking lot, I realized something.

Anne had said it would take an hour and a half to drive to her house.

I’d have to sit in a car filled with other people for an hour and a half with no way of getting out.

Correction, I’d have to sit in a giant _cage on wheels_ filled with other people for an hour and a half with no way of getting out.

Even if my cage had been my only safe haven back at the School, it had been extremely uncomfortable and I –no doubt like the others– had developed a nasty case of claustrophobia as a result.

The closer we got to her Suburban, the more I was dreading the trip and the more sluggish my steps became.

By the time Angel gave me a cautious yet encouraging nudge, we were twenty feet behind the others as they started to file into the car.

I swallowed and tried to keep my breaths even, getting into the front row of backseats and closing the car door after I sat down, already feeling the onset of panic along with a cold sweat.

I barely managed to buckle my seat belt before hunching over and rubbing the heels of my hands into my eyes, trying to tell myself that _you are not in a cage, you are not in a small space, you are in a perfectly_ large _room._

It barely kept me from freaking out, and I had a feeling that for the entire trip I’d be wishing that I was back in the hospital.

I wasn’t that far off.

* * *

“Gol, Virginia is shore purty,” Max said, and I could practically imagine Gazzy grinning.

Though I had to admit it really was. There were many rolling hills, miles of trees dressed in their autumn colors, and waves of green pastures dotted with the occasional horse.

By swapping my sight with Nudge –who had kept her gaze plastered to the window since we’d left the city– I had been able to not only keep my cool but see the beautiful scenery. I could also recline my seat like Fang had without needing to knead my eye sockets.

“Oh, gosh, look at that,” Nudge’s hand came into view when she pointed out the pane of glass. “That horse is totally white. Like an angel horse. And what are those rolled-up straw things?”

“Bales of hay,” said Anne from the driver’s seat. “They roll them like that instead of making haystacks.”

“It’s so pretty here,” Nudge continued, almost bouncing in her seat from excitement. “I like these hills. What’s the kind of tree with pointy leaves and all the colors?”

“Maples,” Anne said with a smile in her voice. “They usually have the most color.

“What’s your house like?” Nudge asked. “Is it all white with big columns? Like Tara? Did you see that movie?”

“ _Gone with the Wind_ ,” Anne said. “No, I’m afraid my house isn’t anything like Tara. It’s an old farmhouse. But I do have fifty acres of land around it. Plenty of room for you guys to run around. We’re almost there.”

Twenty minutes later, Anne pulled into a driveway and clicked an electronic device. A pair of wrought-iron gates swung open, and she pulled through.

The gates closed behind us, and all my warning alarms went off at once.

It nearly took a minute to get to her house. The driveway was made of crushed shells and wound with the land through natural, overhead arches formed by beautiful trees. Red and yellow leaves danced carefully in the wind and onto the car.

“Well, here we are,” she said, pulling around a corner. “I hope you like it.”

I broke off the connection with Nudge to lean forward and stare out my window with the others. Anne’s house looked like it came from a dream at best and painting at worst. There were rounded river rocks on the bottom, with clapboards above, and a big screened porch that went across most of the front. Large shrubs circled the yard, some still with faded hydrangea blooms.

I couldn’t get out of the car fast enough, feeling like I could finally breathe again now that I wasn’t in such a cramped space. The others were only a step behind me.

“The air smells different here,” said Nudge, wrinkling her nose. “It smells great.”

I took a deep breath, finding that the air was as refreshing as it was hundreds of feet in air when I was flying. Except it smelled better, less cold and more like nature, as if all the trees and plants and no doubt animals around the house had had their scents worn into the air over the years.

The house stood on top of a low hill. Sloping away from us were wide lawns and an orchard. The trees were covered in apples, birds twittering and singing nearby. They were the only things I could hear – the sounds of traffic, of people, as well as the smell of road tar were totally and completely gone.

Anne opened the porch door. “Well, don’t just stand there,” she said with a laugh. “Come see your rooms.”

I nodded numbly, too entranced to follow Nudge and Angel as they headed towards the house, Gazzy eagerly following.

Iggy was standing next to Max. “What does it look like?” he asked in a low voice, and I felt like patting his shoulder.

“It looks like paradise, Jeff,” said Fang.

There wasn’t a single part of me that couldn’t agree with him.


	4. Settling In

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we have chapter 4! Ironically having the same title as the original, but with new scenes and less book-content. Annnnd another member of camp anti-Max. XD
> 
> BoaF tumblr: mrboaf.tumblr.com
> 
> The Maximum Ride series rightfully belongs to its creator James Patterson. I only claim ownership to original characters, scenes, and events not present or developed in the series and not copyright infringement is intended. Any other copyrighted materials shown belong to their rightful owners.

Anne’s house, as it turned out, had seven bedrooms and five bathrooms. Angel and Nudge were forced to share a room, though they seemed more than eager at the idea – apparently they’d done so before, back when the Flock lived at _their_ house.

I still wasn’t sure whether to applaud them for not getting caught after years of living in one place, or to curl into a ball and cry later because life was so fricking _unfair._

As soon as the Flock had finished with their showers I’d gone into the first free bathroom for mine, clean clothes Anne had let me borrow in hand.

Though I wasn’t exactly ecstatic at the idea of finally getting all the dirt and grime off.

Even ignoring the fact I’d never showered before, one too many experiments involving whether my air sacs would allow me to hold my breath longer had left me a little aquaphobic.

The only good thing that had come of it was learning how to swim, not that it had helped at all.

As soon as I’d stepped in I’d had to clench my eyes shut, counting my breaths as I tried to remind myself that _no, you’re_ not _in the School and you’re_ not _going to be trapped underwater until you black out._

It kept me calm, and after a while I had to admit the spray of hot water was actually really nice.

But I couldn’t revel in it as much as I wanted too, seeing as how blood was a total pain to clean off and my legs were covered in it. My left leg had taken only a few seconds, the scrubbing making the skin red and sting violently.

My right leg, on the other hand, was a totally different matter.

Walking around in blood-crusted jeans earlier had made the back of my leg raw, but unfortunately hadn’t rubbed all the blood off in the process. So, I had to spend more than a few minutes carefully washing off the remaining blood and stifling cries of pain the entire time.

Luckily, when I’d gotten out I’d found that Anne kept a first-aid kit in the cabinet, apparently never touched before as there was a surplus of bandages and rubbing alcohol even after I had properly treated my legs.

Though vain I’m not, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t spend at _least_ ten minutes staring at my reflection. Feel free to blame the fact that I had no idea what I looked like, and was pretty much a stranger to myself.

With brown, rounded-out almond eyes, well-shaped pink lips, and a small nose, I wasn’t ugly by any means.

I wasn’t surprised when a strip of hair tucked behind my ear kept drooping into the middle of my left eye – when my hair was still curly, I hadn’t been able to keep the lock behind my ear.

Even behind my ear it still found a way to block my eye.

Sighing, I managed to pull myself away from the mirror with the knowledge that I could always look again later.

My room –and no doubt all the others– looked like something out of a magazine – the bed looked cozy to the point of being uncomfortable.

I hadn’t been ogling my room for more than five minutes before Angel poked her head in. When I sent her a questioning look, she only grinned.

“We’re going outside,” she informed me happily.

What her goal was didn’t become clear until she swung the door open and stood to the side, beaming at me.

I sighed for what seemed like the hundredth time and followed her out the door, shutting it behind me.

Apparently the Flock was going to be stuck with me whether they wanted to or not.

* * *

“What is that, like, a plane hanger?” asked Nudge.

A grove of trees had blocked the large red building from view earlier, but since we’d started exploring it was apparent there was more to the area than just what we’d first seen.

“It’s a barn,” Fang said.

“A barn with animals?” Angel asked excitedly, her energy rubbing off on me and giving me the urge to just go and run inside.

As soon as the thought flickered into my head, she turned to grin at me. I could only blink at her, utterly confused.

Then Total started barking, like he’d picked up something’s scent.

“Yep, guess so,” Max picked up Total and held him in her arms. “Listen, you,” she told him. “No more with the barking. You’re going to spook somebody.”

Total looked absolutely miffed, but he kept his muzzle shut.

“That first one is Sugar,” said Anne, coming up behind us. She’d made it clear we had free rein of the place after she’d given us a tour of the house and shown us our rooms.

We stood in the open barn doorway and watched Sugar, a pale grey horse who was looking back at us with interest glittering in his eyes.

To be honest, it was almost odd to me – seeing an animal that hadn’t had its DNA tampered with.

“He’s beautiful,” Nudge whispered in awe.

“He’s big,” said the Gasman.

“Big and sweet,” Anne said, opening a box and pulling out a carrot. She handed it to Nudge and nodded towards the horse. “Go on. He likes carrots. Hold it flat in your hand.”

Stepping forward warily, Nudge held out the carrot. Her nervousness seemed almost silly when Sugar carefully lipped up the carrot and crunched it in satisfaction, looking at the girl who’d given it to him as if he expected another.

Nudge turned to face Max, her face practically glowing in happiness while her eyes were lit up. It made my throat feel tight, as if she’d purposely tried to make me feel more isolated.

But the truth was, I really _didn’t_ belong.

These kids, the Flock, they could be happy just by being with each other. And meanwhile I had no idea what happiness was like, the idea as foreign to me as the prospect of being normal.

“You guys have another half hour,” Anne said, turning to go back to the house. “Dinner’s at six.”

Even though I hadn’t had food in days, just the thought of eating anything made me feel nauseous and light-headed.

I knew it had nothing to do with old habits.

* * *

“Oh, _yeah!_ ” said the Gasman, looking at the pond. “I am so there!”

Just by eyeballing Anne’s pond, I could tell it was roughly fifty yards wide and one hundred and twenty-ish yards long. Truth be told, I had pictured the pond as being smaller – _much_ smaller. Or at least without the small, rocky shore edged with cattails and daylilies.

One part of me wanted to stay far away so there was no chance of falling in, but another part wanted to get rid of the annoying phobia and dive right in. Of course, I couldn’t say for sure whether I’d freak out and forget I could actually surface for air or not.

I just hoped I wouldn’t put it off until I decided to stop trying altogether.

“We don’t have time right now Gazzy,” Max said, staring at the body of water like she expected the kraken itself to rise out of it. “But maybe we can go swimming tomorrow.”

“It’s just so beautiful here,” Nudge said, gazing at the rolling hills, the orchard, the pond, the thin and _literally_ babbling brook that ran into the pond. “Like the Garden of Eden.”

“Yeah, and _that_ turned out so well,” Max muttered under her breath.

I locked my jaw and glared at her, temper flaring as I bit back the growl in my throat along with some less-than-kind words.

I didn’t care if she saw my glare, or if she glared back, because right now I felt like I could punch her in the face.

Actually, I felt like shaking her and screaming at her.

Couldn’t she just appreciate the good things that somehow managed to happen to us? Or was she just too fricking _spoiled_ and _used_ to good things happening to _them_ that she stopped giving a crap?

That she forgot how _terrible_ life at the School was? How any _one_ of the experiments would do _anything_ to get out, even if it meant death?

I took a deep breath and clenched my shaking hands into fists.

“Look, there are more animals over there,” Angel said, pointing before her gaze flicked towards me.

I frowned and ignored her, instead following her arm where animals were enclosed in classic, wooden pens.

“Okay, we can swing by ‘em on the way back to the house. I don’t know about you guys, but I’m starving.” Max glanced at a starting-to-look-pale Fang and I bit back more shouts, glaring at her again.

“ _Sheep!_ ” Angel cried, spotting some unusually brown wool and successfully knocking me out of my thoughts.

“Anne is quite the animal lover,” Fang said to the nerve-grating Flock leader as we followed Angel. “Horses, sheep, goats. Chickens. Pigs.”

“Yeah,” Max agreed. “I wonder who’s for dinner?”

He flashed her a smile that looked completely out of place on him. The oh-so-tough Maximum Ride responded by blushing and striding ahead of him.

I only rolled my eyes and sighed, lagging behind the others.

“Pigs, look,” the Gasman said excitedly, splitting off from the group. “Come here, Ig.” Gazzy guided Iggy’s hand down, and Iggy scratched a small brown pig behind its ears, making it squeal ecstatically.

“Pigs are so lucky,” Gazzy said, reaching out to scratch one of them. “No one cares if _they’re_ dirty or live in a pigsty.”

I raised an eyebrow, and when Gazzy caught my gaze he grinned sheepishly.

“That’s because they’re _pigs_ ,” Max pointed out, a second before Total scratched her as he leapt out of her arms.

“Hey!” she protested, in time to see a large black and white herding dog bound up. Total braced his front legs and barked unusually loud for his size, the far bigger dog barking back.

“Total!” Max called, clapping her hands. “Stop it! It’s his yard. Angel!”

Angel was already making her way over, and she grabbed Total’s collar.

“Since when does he have a collar?” Max asked, making me wonder just how much attention she paid to the Flock.

“Okay, Total, calm down,” Angel said, stroking his furry head. Total stopped barking only to shake his head in disgust.

“Putz.”

My head jerked back, and I was going to say something until I saw Gazzy striding up, hands in his pockets and whistling. I huffed in annoyance and scowled at him, the blond purposely avoiding my eyes as he shrugged nonchalantly.

“Come on, guys,” Max said, and for once she didn’t unintentionally poke at my pent-up anger. “Let’s go chow.”

* * *

“N. O.” I repeated, rubbing my eye groggily. A quick glance at the clock told me I’d have to get the others up soon.

 _I_ was already up because Angel had come to talk to me about the new bird-kid on the block without the chance of the others hearing.

“But Max–“ Angel tried to convince me for the hundredth time in the last ten minutes.

“ _No_ ,” I grumbled again, padding around “my” room as I looked for something to busy myself with.

It was one thing for Angel to try and get me to trust Violet, in spite of the fact we knew absolutely nothing about her besides being another experiment – she could’ve been working for the whitecoats for all we knew.

But it was a whole other thing when Angel tried to get me to give the purple-head the flock-leader stamp of approval and “let her join the flock.”

 _Our_ flock.

And not only let her join, but let her _come with us when we left._

“Max, _please_ ,” Angel tugged on my arm, and when I made the mistake of looking at her, I froze.

Her face was still flushed from frustration, only now her eyes were shining with unshed tears. Eyes that were filled with a deep desperation that pulled at my namby-pamby heartstrings.

“She doesn’t have _anyone_ , Max,” she said, her voice cracking as she sniffed and blinked back tears. “Back at the School, she– she was alone. For _years._ ”

Why Angel was doing this only starting to hit me when she hiccupped and pulled away to wipe her eyes off with her sleeve.

“Please, Max,” she repeated, looking up at me determinedly with red eyes even as she had to blink furiously. “ _Please._ ”

She sniffed and her shoulders started to shake, her hands moving up to rub at her eyes.

I wasted no time in plopping down on my bed and wrapping my arms around Angel’s thin frame, letting her cry into my shoulder.

She wasn’t doing this on a whim, or because she liked Violet and thought she’d fit in with us.

She did it because she _related_ to her – related to her in the worst way possible.

Angel had been at the School for a week –if that– but even then she’d come out changed. And now I realized it wasn’t because she was so young, it was because she _didn’t have anyone there with her._

Apparently Violet hadn’t had anyone either, except _she_ was at the School for years instead of a few days.

And even now, after escaping, she was still alone – unlike Angel, who had had the five of us the second she got out.

Something the aforementioned mind-reader seemed determined to change.

“Alright,” I sighed, feeling a headache coming on when Angel let out a weak, bubbly laugh and hugged me tighter. “But if she does _anything–_ “

I was cut off with not only an even _tighter_ grip that may or may not have cracked a few ribs, but the first giddy “thank you” in an almost annoying mantra of gratitude.

She must’ve been on her dozenth “thank you” by the time she bound out of my room and towards hers, no doubt going to energetically wake up her roommate.

I stared across at the wall blankly for a few seconds before groaning and dropping my head into my hands, wondering how long it’d take for the guilt-trip induced decision to come back and bite me in the butt.

It was like Total all over again.

* * *

“Sarah?” the rapping of knuckles on my door made my eyes slide open.

When Anne opened the door, her eyes widened. “You’re already up?”

I let out a snort and sat up fully, swinging my legs off the side of the bed.

“Oh, please,” I rolled my eyes and tossed the blankets back onto the mattress as I stood. “I’ve _been_ up.”

Anne frowned and her eyes narrowed in disbelief and… _worry_.

“Since when?” she asked, and in the hallway I could see the rest of the Flock getting up and already working on their morning preparations.

Strangely enough, Angel turned to beam at me like it was Christmas morning.

I raised an eyebrow in question, but I let it drop and frowned when she zipped back into her room.

“Hours,” I said simply, looking back at the blonde woman who was pressing her lips into a thin line.

“How come?” she pressed further.

“Just the usual,” I shrugged nonchalantly. “Racing thoughts, insomnia, nightmares.”

I swear I could see the members of the Flock out in the hallway stiffen, but I wasn’t sure.

Anne opened her mouth like was going to say something before wisely shutting it and shaking her head.

“Come on,” she said, raising her voice to get the Flock’s attention. “Time for breakfast.”

The younger kids’ faces lit up, and they all hurried after Anne down the stairs as fast as they could. Angel yet _again_ grinned at me, and I was just as confused as last time.

I sent a questioning look towards Max, whose scowl only deepened as she ignored me and strode down the steps.

 _Looks like_ someone’s _not a morning person,_ I thought, frowning again.

“You’re kidding, right?” Nudge’s careful, trying-not-to-be-rude words had me wondering what crazy scheme Anne was trying to get us to agree to before I even knew what was going on.

I took one step into the kitchen and stopped, eyes widening.

Surely enough, our FBI-agent-turned-host had stupidly thought that a bottle of sports drink and a fricking _protein bar_ was a suitable breakfast.

Anne blushed nervously under our stares of disbelief, avoiding our gazes and shifting her weight repeatedly.

“Well,” she cleared her throat, hands fumbling as she rushed to put the failed attempt at breakfast away as fast as possible. “Since you all have such large appetites, I’ll be heading to the store soon to get groceries. While I’m there I might as well get you guys your clothes–“

Nudge immediately brightened, and Anne paused to send her a relieved smile.

“And any of you are free to come with me.” She finished, the look she sent me and Fang adding on a clear _Except you._

Which, obviously, was because she had no idea just _how_ fast we healed and was too stubborn to take our word for it.

Before any of us could go upstairs, Anne raised a hand as a signal for us to wait.

“After we get back and have a proper breakfast, I’ll explain the schedule I set up for you guys. Alright?” she said.

The younger kids glanced at each other before nodding cautiously and slinking back towards their rooms to get ready.

“And make your beds!” Anne hurriedly shouted after them, clearly meaning to have mentioned it beforehand.

I blinked before turning to share a look with Max and Fang, knowing that butting heads and unfamiliarity with them aside we could all agree on one thing.

_This lady was crazy._

* * *

The hour or two that _almost_ everyone was gone shopping, I passed most of my time by staring into space and thinking. It didn’t do anything beyond making the ever-present urge in the back of my head to start crying grow stronger.

What can I say? I was just a whiny kid with an annoying habit of self-pity and an inability to get past the fact that life sucked and that was that.

About half an hour before they got back, I had picked up a book Anne had lying around. Even though it wasn’t even a year old, the title had spiked my curiosity.

_Blink: The Power of Thinking Without Thinking._

Just after finishing the prologue, I was sure by the time I got through it I was either going to laugh my butt off at the idiocy of the author and/or reflect on my crappy life and the problems resulting there from for _way_ too long.

“Nick! Sarah! We’re back!”

I jumped and felt my heart skip a beat, the paperback falling out of my hands and onto the floor.

I spent a few seconds trying to calm my breath before standing up, grabbing _Blink_ and putting it on my bed before deciding to head downstairs.

“Did you bore yourself to death?” Anne asked teasingly when I entered the kitchen.

“…No,” I said, raising an eyebrow when I saw the Flock sans Fang zipping around the kitchen as they helped put away the massive amounts of groceries.

When Angel saw me she sent me a sheepish smile before quickly going back to unpacking a particularly large bag that contained fresh fruit and vegetables.

I _yet again_ felt confused, until I remembered what they had gone to the store to get along with groceries.

Clothes _._

“Hey, Anne,” I started casually, managing to keep my face from contorting into a grimace. She looked up at me, and I continued. “Where are the clothes?”

“Oh!” Anne’s eyes widened a split second before she stuffed some canned goods into the pantry. “Come on,”

She strode past me and Fang, who had apparently been standing a few feet away, and into the living room. I followed her, blinking owlishly at the thirty or so shopping bags strewn across the furniture.

Seeing as how she owned this huge plot of land and had easily offered to house seven kids with extremely high metabolisms and buy them new clothes, I shouldn’t have been surprised.

But I was.

Especially when after skimming through at least a dozen bags, Anne picked up _four_ and handed them to me.

My arms sagged a bit with the weight, and I knew I was gawking.

“It’s not as much as it seems, really,” Anne said after she handed Fang his bags, smiling nervously as she tried to be modest. “Just enough outfits for you to wear everyday and when you go out, nightclothes, and some new shoes. Honestly, half the weight has to be hangars.”

Anne laughed in what I guessed was an attempt to make me feel comfortable, only making my throat tight at the kindness of it.

“Thanks, Anne,” I managed, putting on the most genuine smile I could before I headed back to my room.

I dropped the bags onto my bed, starting to sort through my new wardrobe.

The various shirts and pairs of jeans I found in the first bag were either black or dark grey – it made me wonder just _what_ Angel had been so sheepish about.

…I _really_ hoped she hadn’t let Nudge pick out the rest of my clothes.

Swallowing back a sense of dread, I flipped through the bag with night clothes and apparently undergarments.

Again they were simple and black, though I had to raise an eyebrow at the white zebra stripes on one set of pajamas.

Nudge had definitely picked _something_ out.

And when I started to go through the third bag, it became clear that Nudge hadn’t stopped with the zebra-pajamas.

Leaning back and sighing, I rubbed my eyes for a few seconds, ignoring the lights that flashed behind my eyelids.

I opened my eyes and blinked repeatedly, forcing myself to look through the clothes no one but Nudge could’ve picked out for me.

There was a purple shirt with a large, stylistic black outline of a flower, and a pair of grey jeans with purple rhinestones trimming the pockets. A form-fitting, light lavender blouse with a wide neck and slits going up the long sleeves.

Frankly, I wouldn’t have minded Nudge’s choices if they weren’t all some shade of purple. I mean, really, how more obvious could you get?

Apparently she hadn’t gotten the whole I-didn’t-pick-my-name-because-I-liked-the-color explanation.

Then again, she could’ve done it on purpose anyway – who _wouldn’t_ like remembering attacking one of the assholes who’d pretty much tortured them their entire lives?

Sighing again, I ignored the rest of the Nudge-clothes until I felt an oddly smooth fabric. I paused before grabbing it and pulling it out of the bag, unfolding it in the process.

It turned out to be nothing more than a simple, thick, dark purple jacket. A jacket that lacked sleeves but had a way-too-soft interior.

After running my hands across the material for a few moments, I took a last look into Nudge’s bag.

I was going to ignore the rest of the contents when I saw another, smaller swatch of dark purple.

When I tugged it out, I found out it was actually a pair of elbow-length fingerless gloves the same color as the jacket. The fabric itself wasn’t thick but it felt durable, and when I slipped them on they were only a few levels too loose to count as a second skin.

I almost laughed at how often I could’ve used them when I fought Erasers – they would’ve saved me a decent amount of skin and blood.

As soon as I opened the last bag, I realized it didn’t have clothes but rather shoeboxes.

The one on top contained black tennis shoes, and I was half expecting the other one to have fuzzy black zebra slippers inside.

But it didn’t.

Instead, believe it or not, there were _boots._

Also purple, though a few shades darker than the gloves or jacket, with practically black heels that were faintly raised.

 _Definitely_ another Nudge pick – another Nudge pick that I approved of.

I sighed for the umpteenth time when Anne called me down again, and I put the boots back in their box before heading down for breakfast.

I hoped Anne’s cooking skills weren’t as bad as her choosing protein bars for breakfast implied.

* * *

Iggy, as it turned out, was actually a great cook and had made breakfast with Max’s help. But based on the horrified looks on most of the Flock when I asked about Max cooking, I figured out that “with Max’s help” was just her getting the ingredients and _maybe_ helping Iggy remember where everything was.

Even though the food was amazing and the flock had scarfed down at least two plates each, I had barely managed to finish my first.

It wasn’t because I hadn’t had much to eat after escaping, or because I had some imaginary need for fewer calories than normal.

It was because the only thing the whitecoats had ever given me at the School for food were scraps along with lots of dietary supplements so I wouldn’t get sick. To be honest, with how much my stomach had probably shrunk, just finishing one plate of food was practically a milestone.

Though I would’ve preferred it if Anne would already stop sending me those worried looks.

“Well,” Anne said, tapping her class with a finger to get our attention. “Like I said earlier, I already planned out a schedule for all of you.”

“It’s more like an idea really,” she corrected, as if to keep someone from snapping. Chances are it was Max. “Anyway, I was thinking that after breakfast would be when you’d exercise – flying, playing, swimming, horseback riding, and maybe even sparring if you want. After that’d be lunch and then you’d have ‘til dinner to relax and spend your time how you want.”

“So,” Anne cleared her throat and sat back in her chair. “What do you guys think?”

We all exchanged looks before giving responses that ranged from “Why not?” or a shrug to “That’s amazing!”

Guess which one was Nudge.

“Sparring?” I piped up, curious and almost excited.

True, almost all my fights were quick thanks to easy victories on my part, but fighting was something I was just _used_ to. Sparring with the Flock wouldn’t be like fighting Erasers, but it’d be similar – close enough that I found comfort in just thinking about it.

“You and Nick won’t be doing anything for a few days,” Anne said, like we’d already forgotten how she didn’t even let us go to the store with her. She smiled softly, “But yes, sparring.”

I couldn’t help but grin back, already itching to start and more-or-less show off – I had a feeling the Flock wasn’t even close to my skill when it came to fighting.

Then there was the part of me that couldn’t wait to see Max’s face when I kicked her ass.


	5. Routine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for taking so long!  
> Anyway I'd just like to remind you the BoaF tumblr is at mrboaf.tumblr.com and that you can ask ANYONE ANY questions, submit stuff, or just send in reviews/feedback/critiques/theories/speculations/ideas and see what I think.

Both to my shock and gratitude, I spent a decent amount of time with the Flock even when Fang and I were kept from doing anything physical other than a few "Not too long," walks.

For some reason Angel had decided to bring me up to speed on what had happened to the Flock after they escaped from the School. Since Max didn't do anything but press her lips into a thin line and walk off, I figured I didn't have to worry about anything.

Two years after they got out, the whitecoat who'd rescued them, Jeb –I vaguely remembered him from back at the School, and his last name always seemed to hang from the tip of my tongue–, had disappeared and supposedly died.

At least, that's what they'd thought.

Only a little after I'd gotten out, Angel had been kidnapped by Erasers and taken back to the School. When the Flock got there they'd seen Jeb, and he'd told Max about her mission to "save the world."

Which, in hindsight, probably explained why the whitecoats paid so much attention to her. It could've also had something to do with Max's huge ego, though I was willing to bet it hadn't done much other than make it feel justified.

It wasn't long before they were all out again, and from there they booked it to New York. After a string of severe migraines –which I could sympathize with, since that was what had happened when I'd first been able to read thoughts– Max had gained an all-knowing Voice in her head that gave her mysterious advice.

It had been what led them to the Institute, a School-esque lab where they'd found Total – along with intelligible files they'd printed out about their parents that had apparently once contained actual text.

After that, the only interesting thing Angel had told me was that the Eraser that had injured Fang was the same one who'd injured  _me._

Which was when we'd pretty much wound right back to the present and she'd run out of things to talk about. She still talked to me a bit occasionally later on, but it never lasted long since I knew nothing regarding pop culture.

Nudge, on the other hand, had happily chatted with me about whatever came to her mind. The day I'd woken up and found that whatever crap the whitecoats had done to my hair had worn off, Nudge had spent more than a few minutes ogling my loose black curls as she chattered about hair.

The conversation had soon devolved into a talk about our most/least favorite colors. I'd killed the chances of it going on any longer when I'd quite bluntly stated that I hated white.

Luckily it had been after breakfast and Anne had swooped in and told the others that they had to start their now-routinely exercise. Anne had also grown an almost motherly –way too similar to  _her_  for my liking– habit of spending time with my while I was stuck inside.

Actually, the only thing we really did was watch movies while the others were exercising or after dinner, with some small talk on the side. Within a few days we'd watched all the  _Star Wars_  movies –including the last one which was only released a month or two ago–, all the  _Harry Potter_  movies that had been made so far, more Disney movies than I could count, and other movies of miscellaneous genres.

The one thing that wouldn't stop bugging me was a nagging voice in the back of my head. It was insistent in telling me that I didn't hang around Gazzy and Iggy so much because I was interested in their antics, or their skills when it came to building bombs, but because the Gasman reminded me of Ari so much.

What made me feel  _really_  guilty though, was that, well…

_It was right._

Whenever I saw him, with the blond hair and childish grin, it always reminded me of Ari to the point I felt like crying – it didn't help that at eight, Gazzy was only a year older than how old Ari would be now.

I felt horrible about it, felt like I thought he was just some replacement even though I honestly  _didn't_.

But another part of me didn't care, and actually looked forward to the few occasions where I'd slip and see an older Ari instead of the bomb-building bird-kid.

Because no matter how hard I tried to deny it, no matter how hard I tried to get past  _her_ and Ari and how much it  _hurt_  to have them leave me alone, I just—

I just—

_I just wanted my little brother back._

* * *

Almost a week after we'd first come to Anne's way-too-dreamlike farmhouse, she'd told us that Fang and I could  _finally_ start doing the exercises with the others.

It turned out the playing and swimming had wound up as more-or-less the same activity, and honestly I wasn't that surprised.

Though I wasn't expecting it turn into what was basically a two-hour long dunk contest. Funnily enough, it had started when Angel decided to give me a little "help" getting into the water and I'd yanked the laughing Gasman into the pond the second after I resurfaced.

The horses, needless to say, were less than happy when they'd had to run around with seven sopping wet bird-kids on their backs. Had I known horse body language any better, I might've even said a few of them looked like they were  _pouting_.

We spent the next hour flying, and the younger kids taught me amazing flight maneuvers that were done with nothing more than a few angled feathers – feathers that I didn't even know you could even move before, let alone what you could do with them.

"How'd you learn this stuff, anyway?" I finally asked, after more-or-less perfecting the smoother turns.

"We learned from hawks," Nudge explained, and the lack of eagerness to tell me everything that happened let me know she didn't want to go into detail.

 _It was when I was at the School_ , the sudden thought in my head would've made me jump if I could've, though my legs still jerked inward for a second.

My head snapped towards Angel, really hoping it was her since the thought had been in her voice and it would've been  _really_  creepy if someone else had decided to do it.

Angel nodded and sent me a small smile, letting me know there wasn't some freak trying to mess with me and I wasn't going crazy.

Well, I was probably already crazy on at least  _some_  level from all the stuff that I'd gone through at the School, but you get the point.

It wasn't long after that that we went on to the last exercise of the day before lunch, the one I'd looked forward to since we first got here.

Sparring.

Unfortunately, I wound up fighting back a grimace as I watched the members of the Flock spar against each other one-on-one first.

"Wow," I said flatly, struggling not to point out the flaws in all of their techniques. "You guys are worse than I thought."

All at once a hush fell over the Flock, Max quickly breaking off from her spar with Fang to stride towards me, glaring defensively as she crossed her arms.

"Oh,  _really_ ," Max responded dryly, narrowing her eyes as a faint sneer laced into itself into her voice. "Like you could do better."

"You're right," I admitted, smirking when her posture relaxed as she thought I was surrendering. "I  _can_  do better."

The Flock leader snapped into a cool glare before walking back over to the large, recently worn out section of grass by the pond that we'd been using for our spars. Fang took a quick glance between us before standing by the others in the makeshift spectating area a couple of feet off.

Still smirking, I made my way over, standing lazily across from Max with my hands deep in my pockets.

"Let's see just how good you are," Max said, smiling confidently in a way that matched her tone perfectly.

"Show me what you've got, _Maximum_ ," I taunted back, grinning and cocking my head to one side.

Her expression fell and she lunged, fist flying towards my jaw. I ducked under it easily, weaving around a roundhouse not even half a second after.

 _Well,_  I thought, still grinning crazily.  _At least you know she's good at transitions._

Skilled in transitions or not, it quickly became apparent what her main flaw was. While Max wasn't slow, her style relied on her opponent being no more than a little faster than her.

But if they were like me and made her sluggish in comparison, however, it all fell apart and she couldn't land a single hit.

And, if I were to actually take my hands out of my pockets and start fighting back, she wouldn't have been able react in time to properly block and/or dodge any oncoming blows.

"Come  _on_ , Max," I egged again, starting to feel almost bored. "Don't tell me a  _cat-girl_ 's a better fighter than you."

I knew she wouldn't get exactly what I meant with the jab, but the intent behind it was pretty clear. Her face flushed and her features hardened, the force behind her movements increasing along with her speed and frustration.

"There we go!" I mock cheered, ready to snap my hands out when and if necessary even as I felt air bubble in the back of my throat.

Max's face turned flat out  _red,_  and her speed increased again as I heard what I thought was a growl rumble in the back of her throat.

Still I slid and twisted around her attacks, refusing to give her even an inch if that.

It wasn't until a hand skimmed past my temple that I decided that the silly game of cat and mouse was over and that I should just pin the annoying rodent by its little pink tail already.

When the next fist rocketed towards me, one of my hands shot up and blocked it. Before she could pull back I locked my fingers around her hand, twisting and making her bend painfully to prevent her shoulder from dislocating.

Max's face flashed into one of pain before she swiftly yanked her hand back, her leg starting to rise into a kick.

Before her foot even got three inches off the ground, my own snapped up and collided against her other shin. She slid back and had to double over to keep her balance as she stumbled back.

As soon as Max started to straighten back out, my arm flew out and the heel of my hand slammed against the top of her sternum.

Her eyes widened as all of her breath left her in a  _whoosh_ , the force knocking her off her legs and onto her back.

Immediately her eyes flared with determination, and just as quickly she started to rush back onto her feet.

Only for her chest to ram into my foot, her shoulders colliding with the ground harshly as she went down again.

Before Max could try and get up a second time, I moved forward and pressed my foot against her collar bone firmly, warning her.

She took deep breaths, brown eyes glaring at me in a mix of anger, wariness, and frustration. After her breathing calmed and returned to normal, I lessened the pressure on my foot before carefully taking it off.

I offered her a hand, and she eyed it before her gaze flashed toward the other, still inside my pocket. Her face flushed again, and her glare intensified.

I saw her lock her jaw before she rolled back to her feet on her own, storming past the Flock and back towards the house.

* * *

"That…"

I looked over to the Flock, only just now realizing they were  _gawking._  They weren't just surprised – they were acting like I'd just grown a second head that fricking  _spewed fire._

Hell, even  _Fang_ was staring!

"That was  _so cool!_ " the Gasman shouted, jumping to his feet as awe and excitement replaced the initial shock.

I blinked owlishly at him, surprised they weren't mad or suspicious of  _where_  I learned how to fight so well. I mean, for God's sake, I just  _kicked Max's butt._

Maximum Ride's –their  _leader's_ – butt.

But no.

Instead, they were looking at me like they'd watched me solar surf through a portal to escape a freaking  _exploding planet of riches._

"Er…thanks," I said awkwardly, nervous from both the way they were all staring and how it looked like Gazzy was about to go Nudge on me.

"I mean, it was like– like you were  _dancing!_ And I've always heard people say that when they're talking about fighting and I always thought it was stupid 'cause I mean how can  _fighting_  look anything like _dancing_ , y'know? But then I saw how you dodged Max, like you could predict the future or something an– an– and  _that's what it looked like!_  Dancing!"

The Gasman grinned at me like I'd agreed to give him his Christmas presents a week early, bouncing on the balls of his feet and making me wonder if he'd downed twelve cups of coffee and a liter of soda when I wasn't looking.

I blinked slowly, feeling a faint itch across my skin as I felt the strong urge to shift, to twitch, to do  _anything_  just to stop the eyes boring into my skin. It wasn't like back at the School, where I felt like some slab of meat that you had to inspect  _every fricking second_  for no reason other than to make sure nothing changed, but it was close enough.

My hands trembled, and I fought back the urge to start scratching my arms in an attempt to get rid of the phantom sensations of needles and scalpels along with the rush of drugs.

Instead I dug my fingertips into my palms, forcing a smirk onto my face. "Really?"

"Yuh-huh!" He nodded so fast I had half a mind to snatch a hand out and hold his head still so it didn't snap off.

My breath hitched and I felt my heart stutter, remembering how eager and how  _excited_ Ari got whenever I showed off, entertained him with my powers.

Seeing him laugh, it'd always lift this weight off my chest, made me feel like I could really  _breathe_  for the first time in my life.

I swallowed thickly and blinked again, but this time it was for a totally different rea—

"Can you teach me how to fight?"

All at once my thoughts screeched to a stop, and even after they picked back up I was left staring at the Gasman with my eyebrows no doubt reaching my hairline.

" _Please?_ " He grinned up at me pleadingly, his eyes shining in a way that had me telling myself for at least the hundredth time that  _he's_ not _Ari._

I swallowed again and shook my head. "First of all, kiddo," I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose and nearly slapping myself when I used Ari's pet name  _again_. By now everyone probably thought it was something I made up for  _Gazzy_. "I can't just  _teach_  you how to fight.  _I_  learned how to fight from experience, and when I started I had my ass kicked from the moon and back more times than I can count."

"Secondly," I looked at him levelly, my skin itching again with the pain of bruised skin and broken bone. The Gasman only smiled back sheepishly, his face turning pink. "I can't teach you jack squat until you get all the kinks –and believe me, there are a  _lot_ – out of your form. Besides, even if I  _were_  to teach you, it'd take months if not  _years_  for you to get to my level."

"Oh," his face fell and I felt my throat tighten out of guilt.

I couldn't even get a sigh out before he perked up again, his eyes just as bright as they were when he was praising me like some deity he'd just seen descend from the sky.

"Does that mean you can't help me get  _better?_ " He asked smugly.

I blinked before what he said hit me and I grinned, feeling excited for the first time in forever without adrenaline pumping through my veins or having the promise of it.

"You know what, kiddo?" air bubbled in my throat again, and I was so eager at the idea it was easy to ignore the urge to slap myself, pretend it wasn't what I called Ari. "That's one hell of an idea."

* * *

By the time Anne called the rest of us in for lunch, I'd helped everyone with their start-off stances a bit. I didn't bother going farther since there were tons of variables like movement or force that decided what the best stance was and when that would make it take too long.

And seeing as how they'd each have their own styles and strengths, I figured it was best they learned all of that own their own.

Not surprisingly, Max hadn't come back outside since her ego had been bruised – just like some spoiled little brat trying to prove her point.

When I felt the burning glare on me the second my back was turned, I wasn't sure whether to smirk or sneer in return.

But when the Gasman started babbling to her about how I was starting to help them with their fighting, I figured it wasn't needed.

"You doing okay?" I jumped at the question before spinning around.

"Uh, yeah…" I said carefully, looking at Anne suspiciously. "Why?"

Anne only shrugged before smiling widely at me. "Why not?"

My throat tightened and I shook my head before turning around. I was really fricking  _sick_ of Anne playing mother hen. And it wasn't because it was annoying – as a matter of fact it was the complete opposite.

 _She_ had, well, been what I'd always thought a mother  _should've_ been like.  _She_ 'd taught me nearly everything I knew – how to read, how to write,  _she_  even taught me levels of mathematics that I shouldn't have known until I was years older.

And Anne buzzing around, making sure I was okay and just  _knowing_  when I wasn't, yet never pushing…

A part of me just kept expecting her to be dying her hair blonde or be wearing colored contacts or  _something._

When there was suddenly a hand on my shoulder, I instinctively jerked and whirled around so fast I slammed into the doorframe.

" _Do_  not," I snapped in a hiss, baring my teeth and glaring at Anne. A hand was already digging into my shoulder, as if it could take away the phantom sensations of metal and alchoholand _scalpels_ and _pai_ — " _Touch me_."

I could already feel myself shaking uncontrollably, and somehow I kept myself from hyperventilating. My throat and eyes burned, but even with my blurred vision I could see the hurt expression on Anne's face, how she looked like I'd just slapped her.

"Sarah…" she began carefully, like she was talking to a frightened animal. She reached a hand out and I flinched, ducking my head and cringing in expectance for the hit that I knew wouldn't come.

Immediately she recoiled, stepping away hurriedly.

The back of my neck prickled, and my gaze swiveled around, catching sight of the Flock.

All of them… just fricking  _staring._

Someone, or maybe a couple some _ones_ , took a step towards me, and the second their shoe made contact with the floor I bolted.

When the porch door closed I could still hear the commotion starting inside, up until I was a good distance away.

My feet crunched against the shells of the driveway, but I kept running and never once thought to even snap my wings open.

I had always run, before I really flew for the first time a few weeks ago and before I'd first gotten into the air years ago. To the Flock flying was as natural as breathing, but so far I'd never felt anything like that.

And why would I? I'd never flown for fun and I preferred actual exertion when I did something tiring.

I'd always been running, and  _running_  is what had always felt natural to me, always felt  _right_.

So by the time my lungs started aching and I thought of stopping, I could see the fence surrounding Anne's property only a few meters away.

I slumped against a tree, panting as I slid to the ground. My hands were still shaking, but my shoulders felt fine and I wasn't going to have a panic attack.

I took slow, deep breaths, and curled into a tight ball, burrowing my head into my arms and wrapping my wings around my slim form.

Soon my eyelids felt heavy, and after a while I let them close and shut out the cruel world around me.

At least for a little while.

* * *

"Hi,"

My eyes fluttered open to see blue ones staring back at me.

"Hey," I responded, shifting into the most comfortable position I could manage with the cramped space and bruises dotting my skin.

Ari grinned widely before plopping down on the floor in front of my cage, giggling.

"What's up with you?" I asked, leaning forward and peering at him in mock suspicion.

His face was deep red when he shook his head wildly, a grin splitting his features. "Nothin'," he said, managing to keep a straight face for a second before doubling over in laughter.

"Uh-huh," I drawled sarcastically, raising an eyebrow of disbelief at him and propping my chin on my hand.

Ari crossed his arms and pretended to glare at me. "Yuh- _huh_ ," he insisted, puffing his cheeks out in a pout.

I only gave him a flat look, feeling the muscles in my face twitch as he sulked.

Immediately he gasped and his face lit up like it was Christmas morning, not even a second before he was lunging towards the latch of my cage door.

"Ari,  _what—_ " before I could reprimand him for trying to get me out of my cage unauthorized  _again_ , the cage door swung open and the three-year-old jumped at me.

The rest of the words died in my throat and my eyes widened as Ari's small arms wrapped around me in a hug, his head buried in my shoulder.

I swallowed thickly, feeling his tiny feet slowly nudge my legs out of my now-open cage so he could fit himself in my lap.

"Y'know what?" he said, pausing as he shifted to sit sideways on my lap, peering up at me with those way-too-bright eyes. "You should do that more."

"Do what?" I asked, arm instinctively wrapping around Ari's back when he curled in on himself, head tucking itself under my chin.

The tiny blonde giggled, and I could just picture the cheeky grin on his face when he shook his head slightly. "Smile,"

My eyes shot open and I jerked upright, bark digging into my back.

I swallowed, willing my heart to calm down as my eyes burned of fire.

I took a shuddering breath and dropped my face into my hands, shoulders shaking as I forced myself to hold back tears.

When I started trying to slow down my breathing, I felt my lips tremble, and soon enough a ragged sob tore itself from my throat.

I rested my head back on my knees, folding my arms over it so that they blocked out any remaining light and stretching my wings around me like some twisted security-blanket.

I knew that both  _she_  and Ari were okay, that nothing bad had happened to them. I knew that by now I was nothing but a memory, and that I shouldn't cling onto them since it wouldn't do anything.

I knew it was self-destructive, but I couldn't find it in myself to do anything different – I knew it was selfish.

I knew it was pointless, getting myself so worked up over something I was better off getting over.

But that didn't make it hurt any less.

* * *

Some time after I had stopped crying and settled for staring blankly at a tree and tracing the patterns in its bark with my eyes, I heard the faint crunching of leaves a ways off.

When I turned my head, I wasn't surprised to meet the gaze of a nervous Angel, who, based on the fact Total was trotting behind her and I couldn't see her wings, had walked all the way here.

"Enjoy the walk?" I offered sarcastically, raising an eyebrow.

She only gave me a sheepish smile. "I figured you could use the time," she said, and I cringed, remembering both the dream and the crying that had followed.

"So," I said, clearing my throat and twisting around to face hear. "Why'd you come?"

Immediately her expression fell, and Angel walked over and sat across from me against another tree, Total climbing onto her lap.

After smoothing down the fur on Total's back she shrugged, keeping her eyes on him.

"Max or Fang wouldn't," she explained. "Iggy and Nudge didn't really know what to do, and I didn't think it'd be a good idea for Anne or Gazzy to come."

"Why not?" I asked, even though a part of me already knew.

"'Cause they remind you of them," she said, looking up at me knowingly from behind curls that fell in front of her eyes.

I swallowed and looked away, nodding absentmindedly.

"Yeah," I said, hand plucking the nearby strands of grass as I blinked away the heat in my eyes. "They do."

A shadow passed over me, and when I looked up again Angel was next to me, smiling.

"Hey, Vi?" she plopped down onto the ground by my side, turning to looking at me intently.

"What?" was my bland answer as I stared blankly back at her, wondering in the back of my mind what she was up to.

"How long are you gonna stay?"

"Well," I said carefully, brow furrowing as I tried not to think of all the times people had left me. "'Til Anne kicks me out, I guess."

I shrugged, and I felt my face fall when she only shook her head and frowned.

"Not with Anne," Angel corrected. "With  _us_."

I swallowed again, eyes practically on fire as I shook my head. "Look, Ange," I said shakily, my throat itching. "I know you like me for whatever reason, but there's no way Max'll—"

"She said you could stay," the blonde cut me off, staring at me intently.

I froze, eyes widening as I panicked internally, thoughts flying every which way.

"Wh…what?" I choked out, vision blurring.

"Max said you could stay," Angel repeated. "I asked her about it a little after we got here. She said you could stay."

A mocking laugh ripped itself from my throat, and I found myself shaking my head again. "Come  _on_ , Angel, Max hates me. You saw how she was earlier. There's no way she'd let me come with you guys."

"No," This time she was the one to shake her head. "She just doesn't like how everyone likes you."

"So  _what?_ " A bitter smirk stretched across my face. "Just because it's not as bad as it could be doesn't mean she wouldn't leave me behind."

"Violet," Angel said sternly, and something in her tone made me look at her. "Max is the leader, but that doesn't mean  _we_  don't have a say in anything. If the rest of us want you to come, and you don't want to go, then you're staying."

I sighed, shaking my head and running a hand through my hair. "You're crazy,"

"Doesn't mean I'm wrong," she insisted, and Total barked in agreement, padding over to me.

I raised an eyebrow at him, and when he nudged my hand insistently and braced his front paws on my leg, I carefully started to stroke his back.

"See?" Angel giggled, hand moving to her mouth. "Even Total wants you to stay."

My throat itched again, and when I smirk this time it isn't bitter. "Doubt it,"

She narrowed her eyes at me playfully, mouth in a flat line. "Admitting you have a problem is the first step to recovery." She said seriously.

The next thing I knew, I was bent over, hands gripping my sides as I laughed uncontrollably.

"Oh my…" I breathed, lungs started to ache. "Ange… you didn't…"

Her words played back in my head, and I launched into another laughing fit.

Soon enough she started laughing with me, and in the back of my mind a part of me really believed her, really  _wanted_   _to_.

Maybe, joining the Flock wasn't going to be so hard after all.


	6. Let It Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well. A 5,819 word chapter written in a week and a half. Good job, eh?
> 
> Though it WOULD'VE been nice if I could've updated the day I finished instead of two days late. The first day was 'cause my proof-reader didn't read it and later I watched Doctor Who with my brother on Netflix. The second day was 'cause the virus scan was taking FOREVER and so I spent the WHOLE DAY watching the Doctor Who marathon followed by the premiere of Orphan Black (which is tots amazing, though I'm REALLLY confused and sympathetic for that pink(?) headed German woman at the end-) and the Nerdist. So, by the time this was proof-read, Chrome stopped crashing, and I got to uploading, it was 3 AM (AKA as I type this).
> 
> A quick/important note: While shippers WILL ship, and any Crowning Moments of Heartwarming (check TVTropes/./org) will always lead to people putting on their Shipping Goggles (again, TVTropes), I MUST get it out of the way that, until I say otherwise (AKA at around the end of StWaOES), any and all interactions between the characters is PURELY friends-helping-friends. No romantic intentions OR feelings, conscious or sub-conscious. Period.
> 
> (In case you're wondering what that was all about: my proof-reader [who not once caught nor mentioned INTENTIONAL Shipping Fuel in the old version] started mock-demanding for the "love confession", made a handful of innuendos, started singing Sitting in a Tree... o_e
> 
> Got it now?)
> 
> BoaF tumblr (which is getting even less attention than the reviews-): mrboaf
> 
> The Maximum Ride series rightfully belongs to its creator James Patterson. I only own original ideas, characters, scenes, and writing not shown nor present in the original.  
> \--  
> Guys, I know I'm being pretty pathetic right now, but please review. I have noway of knowing what you think, how good this story is, OR how in-character/out of character my writing is. And, even if it's not constructive, I still love knowing that people are reading this, that they're wondering about it - that they're ENJOYING IT.
> 
> So... think about it, yeah?
> 
> ENJOY~
> 
> (And I TOTALLY didn't read that second-to-last line right up there in Eleven's voice-)

The next week passed faster than I thought it would, and luckily no one brought up what had happened. However, it was pretty obvious that they hadn't forgotten – whenever any of them could, they brushed against me, or, on rare occasions, patted my back or something similar.

None of them tried to grab me outside of sparring.

In a way it was frustrating, having them see how screwed up the School made me and making them pity me, even  _if_  it was only a little. But on the other hand, it was relieving. For the first time in years someone was worried about me and tried to help me out because they wanted to – not because I wouldn't be in perfect health for experiments.

I ran a brush through my hair a few more times, making sure all the knots were out before I put on my clothes and walked out of the bathroom, pulling my wet hair out of the collar of my shirt.

"Max?" I passed Iggy as he knocked on a door leading to one of the various bathrooms. "Can I come in? I just need to brush my teeth."

"No – I'm in a towel," Max's muffled voice came through the bathroom door.

"I'm  _blind_ ," he said impatiently, and I paused mid-step so I could see how the mini-fiasco would turn out.

"No! You're kidding! Are you sure?" Max's blatant sarcasm had my throat tickling in under a second, my mouth contorting into a smirk.

"Very funny," Iggy responded dryly. "Well, don't take forever. Primping's not going to do much for you, anyway."

I barked out a laugh, hand shooting up to my mouth as I struggled not to double over. When Iggy walked by me on his way down the hall, he snickered and patted my back.

It must've flicked some invisible switch, because in the next few seconds I was sliding down the wall, burying my head in my knees with my arms wrapped around my abdomen, shoulders shaking.

After a couple of moments used to catch my breath, I managed to push myself back onto my feet and headed downstairs for breakfast.

We all cleaned our plates, and after a couple of minutes spent letting the food digest, we went out and headed for the pond.

"Hold on a second, guys," we all stopped, turning to face Max.

"What?" the question flew out of my lips before I could stop it. But fortunately for her Angel had talked to me more than a few times about how her holier-than-thou attitude was just so the others would be able to trust her as leader without thinking she didn't know what she was doing. Hence why I wasn't sneering – or burning holes into her skull.

Well, Max actually  _did_  know what she was doing – just not to the extent the flock thought she did.

When Max's gaze flicked to me I only raised an eyebrow and moved my hand in a  _Go on,_  motion.

"We looked for our parents last night," she blurted out, avoiding our shocked gazes and instead nodding her head towards Fang.

 _What the_ hell?!

If the files from the Institute on our –well,  _their_ – parents had been reduced to code, how were they supposed to get anything from it?

"How?" Nudge asked, eyes bright and filled with hope but at the same time fear.

"I looked at the codes again," Fang said, and my eyes widened in surprise when he was the one to talk. "After a while I figured they looked like map coordinates." He shrugged nonchalantly while we stared at him. "I checked it out with a book of detailed street maps, and all the codes wound up at actual places."

"Did you find anything?" Gazzy cut in, bouncing on his feet and reminding me of Ari even as I saw sweat bead down his temple.

"We only checked two addresses," Max said, taking the reigns again. She frowned at the younger kids, and I felt my heart squeeze when they deflated. "The one by Nudge's name was a bust, but when we checked the next one we found a picture of Gazzy when he was a baby."

"R–Really?" A strangled noise escaped the Gasman's throat, and if I hadn't known any better I would've said he was going to start crying.

Max only shrugged, looking at him but not meeting his eyes. "Yeah, but the place was rundown. No one's lived in there for years at least."

His shoulders sagged, and I reached a hand out to wildly ruffle his hair. He looked up at me and sent me a weary grin, and for once I actually thought of how he and Ari were  _different._

Had it been Ari, he would've taken the cavity-forming-sweet optimism route, and there was no way he would've looked so tired – so  _worn._

I felt my heart tighten –but not for Ari, for the little kid who was actually  _with me–_ and ruffled his hair some more, smirking when he ducked and playfully swatted my arm away, sticking his tongue out.

The air in my throat bubbled, but nothing happened on the way to the pond so by the time we got there it was completely gone.

I sighed absentmindedly, throwing off my shoes and socks before I went swimming. When I saw another pair of shoes clatter to the ground near mine, I turned to send Nudge an awkward smirk – while laughing had become more common for me, I still hadn't smiled.

And in all honesty, I wasn't expecting to any time soon.

Nudge smiled back, waving before jogging down and wading into the deeper parts of the pond.

I tried to brush a curl from my eye, taking a few steps backwards before launching forward for a running leap into the water.

There was a splash as I fell in, the cool temperature making me hyper-aware of the liquid surrounding me, the deafening sound of water as it filled my ears.

For a while I just let myself drift, enjoying both the feeling and sight of my clothes floating away from my skin, my hair fanning out and spreading in every direction like a cloud of smoke.

But then my chest started to burn, and I agilely swam to the surface, taking deep lungfuls of air and pushing my hair back out of my face.

The back of my neck prickled, and instinctively my head whirled around.

"What?" I asked flatly, and I could only smirk when Nudge blushed nervously and sunk lower until the bottom of her face was in the water.

After a few seconds she raised her head back out. "Well—"

"Bombs away!" our heads snapped up to see the Gasman flying low over the water's surface in our direction. He tucked his wings in and curled into a ball, cackling maniacally as he crashed into the water only a few feet away from us.

The wave that was sent up forced us underwater, and for a split second I nearly panicked until Nudge motioned me upward.

"Did you see that?" Gazzy crowed the second my head lifted out of the water, wide smile splitting his face. "That was so awesome! I'm going to do it again!"

"Okay," Max said from her chair over in the grass, with Anne's laptop on her legs as she grinned in a way that didn't have me itching to punch her face in. It was weird how just a few explanations could change the way you saw something so drastically. "Don't hurt yourself."

"And don't hurt  _me!_ " Nudge yelled in irritation as the blond clambered out of the water. "Watch where you drop! You almost landed on us!"

"Sorry," Gazzy said, not sounding apologetic at all.

"Hey, Gaz!" I called, and when he looked at me I felt proud that I could point out every little thing that made him  _him_  and not Ari. "How about you make it an eleven next time?"

"You got it!" he grinned, mock saluting at me before throwing his wings open and jumping back into the air.

My neck prickled again, and I quickly looked back and forth between Nudge and Max.

"What?" I asked in a offended tone, and Max rolled her eyes and sipped her lemonade – _really_  not doing anything for her not-pompous-image right now– while Nudge put on an innocent look before ducking underwater.

I huffed, sinking until my eyes were just above water level and blowing a few bubbles out into the water just for the heck of it.

In all honesty, though, I wasn't even close to annoyed.

The younger kids were so excited, so  _hopeful_  at the idea of possibly meeting their parents that it made me wonder how they could think like that with the background they had.

And the fact there was a maybe-not-dead-end that  _didn't_  lead to their parents? I knew they were crushed without even needing to see the brief but unmistakable flash of true innocence in their eyes – the kind of innocence that you could only see in someone who'd seen the best and the worst of life.

The kind that screamed of vulnerability, the kind that kept a small part of you screaming and crying about how life was unfair and demanding to know  _why does this have to keep_ happening!?

The kind that left me feeling like I was looking back at no one but myself.

* * *

At a faint tap on my door, my eyes shot open and I flipped over, inwardly rolling my eyes and wondering just what the hell was up  _this_  time.

"Shouldn't you be in bed?" I asked blatantly, raising an eyebrow at the Gasman, who for some reason was actually dressed. As in, up-and-around dressed.

Gazzy blinked slowly for a second, before a grin split his face. "We're going flying," he said, with such excitement I had half a mind to break it to him how counterproductive that'd be when he actually went to bed.

I thought about it for a moment before sighing and sitting up. "Alright," I said, and I felt a twinge of  _something_  when his face brightened further. "Now get out so I can change."

He let out a laugh at my apparently surprising bluntness before quickly shutting the door.

When I walked out of my room a minute or two later –now properly dressed– and saw the entire flock, I wasn't sure whether to be surprised or not.

"I love flying!" Total said as he jumped into Iggy's arms, though by now we'd all gotten used to the whole "talking dog" thing. What with how he'd been found at what was basically a second School, I had just been expecting  _something_ to happen. "Just don't drop me."

I let out a snort, throat tingling, before we headed out.

If anything, it was perfect.

The cool, almost cold air –I was guessing around forty degrees–, slid in and out of my lungs like liquid velvet. It tugged at my clothes and whipped the hair out of my face, but it relaxed me.

I practiced the hawk-moves for a bit, part making sure I remembered everything and part because I couldn't think of anything else to do.

"Look, bats!" Nudge called, pointing.

I followed her arm, quickly catching sight of the hundreds-, maybe thousands-large swarm of small creatures. Their flight pattern was uneven, all of them jerking from one place to another with each stroke of their leathery wings.

"Hey, they're mammals, like we are," Max said. I frowned when I realized the small bit of simple knowledge was something that they all could've easily  _not_  known. Being on the run, despite what you might think, ruled out everything that could lead to being found out – especially something as crowded and paperwork-needing like school.

"My ears hurt," Total complained, a faint doggish whine lacing itself into his words.

"It's their echolocation," Iggy explained, and I could see the trace of awe in his eyes that made it obvious what he  _wished_  he could do. I myself could only scowl, thinking of how easy it could've been for the whitecoats to give him the skill. "It's way cool. Now be quiet, I'm trying to concentrate."

Total huffed and let his head drop against Iggy's arm, right between his paws.

I rubbed my eyes and sighed, absentmindedly wondering when and if all of this would finally be over and I could I just sleep for who-knew-how-long without drugs being pumped into my system.

"You're it!" I looked up, surprised, to see Gazzy thwack Nudge on the back with one wing before darting away.

I let out a surprised laugh, throat still tickling when I sent the Gasman a look along with a raised eyebrow. He blinked before grinning almost proudly, shrugging his shoulders as if to say,  _So what?_

I smoothed out my expression and smirked at him smugly, feeling my face twitch when he paled and realized I was about to start chasing after him.

I lunged, and he quickly ducked out of the way, letting out a yelp.

Only for Nudge to fly into him with an "Oof!", the two tumbling through the air until they managed to get their bearings.

"It!" she called triumphantly, grinning as she flew off with him on her tail.

I let out a laugh, watching the two zip around as they chased each other, hand clamped over my mouth as I struggled to not curl into a ball.

It wasn't long before they noticed, and they exchanged devious grins before changing their target.

I burst out laughing, nearly wheezing as I tucked my wings in, plummeting out of their reach and watching as they flew past where I just was. I snapped my wings open after a few seconds, doing my best to hold back maniacal giggles, yet unable to keep my face straight as the muscles in my face ached.

When I reached their level again, they were staring at me with wide eyes.

"Wha—" my question was cut off when I froze, my own eyes widening when I saw Max streak off with extreme speed.

And yes, I did mean  _streak._

I swallowed, gaping as I raised a shaking hand to point at her. The two bird-kids followed it, turning around just in time to see the dot in the distance that was Max disappear completely out of sight.

We all stayed frozen to our spots, unmoving.

A few moments –not even a  _minute_ – later, Max gradually returned to our sights, slowing as she coasted back to where she'd been.

"You have a warp drive," Gazzy said faintly, in awe.

"I want to ride with  _you_ ," Total said, paws scratching at Iggy's arms.

Max only laughed and held her arms out, letting Total jump into them. Excitedly he licked her neck, and my mouth twitched into a smirk at how her face instantly twisted.

"What was that, Max?" Angel asked, eyes as wide as the rest of ours.

"I think I just developed a new skill," Max said, a wide grin splitting her face.

* * *

I couldn't believe that we were all going.

Only Max and Fang had gone the first time, so why was it any different now? Maybe it was because we actually knew what they were doing, so there was no point in us not going. Or, maybe it was because they might find one of our – _them_  our, not  _us_  our– parents, and they wanted us to be able to say goodbye.

What didn't make  _any_  sense, though, was why  _I_  was going.

I mean, Angel had said I was going to go with them when they left a week ago. Then there was the fact Max had stopped being a jerk once I'd stopped antagonizing her, and the flock treated me like I was one of them any way, but…

I still  _wasn't_  one of them.

I sighed, reaching down and absentmindedly tugging at the tops of my boots. Nudge shot me a grin, excited that I was wearing something she'd picked out other than the gloves, which had already been worn soft from how I'd always worn them during sparring.

I rolled my eyes but gave her an exasperated wave nonetheless, a smirk pulling its way onto my face.

"Wait, Total!" Max said, pulling on her new jacket and not-so-subtly edging out of the way when the Scottie tried to jump into her arms for what was practically the hundredth time.

"Total? Maybe it would be better if you stayed home," she said, zipping her windbreaker. "You know, maybe guard the house or something."

Total stood still as a statue and looked at her. "That is so condescending," he said earnestly.

Angel crouched and put her arms around him. "She just meant because, you know, you're so fierce and stuff, and have great hearing and those big teeth," she said soothingly, somehow with an honest face.

 _What is he,_  I thought, raising an eyebrow of disbelief.  _The Big Bad Wolf?_

"Yeah — not just because you're a dog or anything." Max agreed with sarcasm.

Total sat down, reminding me of when Gazzy had tried and failed at getting me to teach him how to do a Dive & Roll. "I want to go with." He insisted, shiny black nose twitching.

Max exhaled heavily. "Fine," she said tightly, and Total immediately leapt into her arms, licking her cheek. I let out a snort, hand flying to my mouth at the expression she made.

Really, you'd think she'd have gotten used to it by now.

* * *

Not even five minutes later, we were airborne and headed to DC.

"So, Angel?" Max said, looking over at the aforementioned blonde. "Have you picked up anything from Anne, about anything? Anything off?"

I stiffened, blood turning to ice as curses ran through my head. Max hadn't said it –she wouldn't dare to with everyone around– but it was obvious there was a silent  _Or Violet_ tacked on after "Anne."

_Anything off?_

My thoughts automatically veered towards my extraordinary fighting ability, the skills I could've easily used for spying, the fact that Max would prefer it if I  _didn't_  go with them when they left.

"Not really," Angel said, pausing as she thought.

 _Calm down, Violet,_ the sudden, calm words in my head made me stare at the back of Angel's head with wide, unsure eyes.

' _How the_ hell _am I supposed to calm down?!'_ I snapped at her mentally, hands shaking.  _'She doesn't_ trust _me! She doesn't even want me —'_

 _She_ does _trust you,_  she countered soothingly.  _And she_ does _like having you around. Even if she doesn't know it yet._

' _So_ wha— _'_

"From what I can tell," Angel continued, with no trace that we'd just been fighting telepathically. And, as far as I could tell, she wasn't having another word of it regardless. "From what I can tell, she does work for the FBI. She does care about us and wants us to be happy. She thinks the boys are slobs."

"I'm  _blind_ ," Iggy said irritably. "How am I supposed to make everything all tidy?"

"Yeah, because you're so handicapped," Max said sarcastically. I immediately bristled and glowered at the back of her head, letting out a quiet hiss. "Like – you can't build bombs or cook or win at Monopoly. You can't tell us apart by the feel of our skin or feathers."

Next to Iggy, Gazzy giggled, while he frowned.

'Max! _'_ I practically snarled at her, shaking as I glared in warning, smoldering rage making it hard not to rush ahead and slap her.  _'That is_ enough _.'_

Her head whipped back in shock, brown eyes widened before smoothing out into an even, flat look.

She didn't even shake her head before turning back to Angel. "Anything else?"

"There is something she isn't telling us," Angel began slowly, eyes nervously flicking between the two of us. "But I don't know what it is. It's not even clear in her mind. Just something that's going to happen."

My heart dropped, and I felt my stomach twist as I frowned.

"Like what?" Max responded, quickly but calmly. "Is she going to turn us over to the whitecoats?"

"I'm not sure she even knows what whitecoats are," said Angel. "I don't know that it's something bad. It could be, like – she's going to take us to the circus or something."

"Wouldn't that be redundant?" Fang muttered, and I couldn't help it when my mouth twisted into a bitter smirk.

"Hmm. Well," Max said. "I know how easy it's been to relax there, guys. But let's try to keep on guard, okay?"

No glances, no awkwardness.

No hint that I was excluded.

Angel sent me a pointed, almost arrogant look that practically shouted  _I told you so!_

I did my best to ignore her.

"Okay," Angel replied normally, and I scowled at her.

"I'm chilly," Total butted in.

"You're wearing a fur coat," Max pointed out, and I could hear her irritation plain-as-day.

"It's chilly up here."

She unzipped her jacket, making the boys snicker. I felt like joining in, to be honest, but didn't burst out laughing until I caught a glimpse of his furry little head popping out of the neck of her coat.

"Much better," he said happily.

"Yo – first address is down there," said Fang, pointing. "Showtime."

When we touched down, I was sure we all thought it was hopeless.

Because, really, that's what I thought it was.

"Maybe her dad was a barber?" Nudge suggested normally, like she was guessing on how to solve a puzzle, and not a way that one of our parents could've possibly lived here.

My eyes immediately slid over to Fang – this was the address next to his name, where his mom was supposed to have lived. At least, according to the map theory regarding the codes.

But there weren't any residential areas nearby, just a barbershop hiding in the large shadow of an office building.

Fang shrugged, looking almost bored. I knew he was faking – this was a lead on the parents he'd always wanted, and it was just another dead end.

And, I noted, a genuinely bored person wouldn't have had a stiff jaw.

I heard Max speak to him softly –something apologetic, I was guessing– but his expression never wavered.

"No big. Didn't think it would add up to anything anyway," Fang said.

 _No_ , I thought.  _But you certainly_ hoped.

"It's probably more wasting of our time, but should we check out this last one?" he said.

"Yes," said Iggy. It was his address, so it was his call.

"Okay, let's go," Fang took off, not once checking to see if we were following.

"Come on," I muttered to Iggy tiredly, snapping my wings open and taking flight, hearing him jump into the air a few moments after me.

I had a feeling this wasn't going to end well.

* * *

The second Fang showed us the address, my stomach dropped.

"Well?" Iggy said, eyes unconsciously darting around from nerves at our lack of any response. "What's there?"

"An Asian food store," I blurted out, trying to get this over with as fast and as painless as possible. Iggy suddenly looked like a homeless puppy I'd just kicked back out into the rain, and I struggled to continue calmly. "It's a part of a strip mall."

"Are there apartments on top of the stores?" he asked, and I felt my throat tighten, the words lodged in my throat.

"No." Max sighed, shoulders sagging with the air she released.

"What's across the street?" he pressed.

"A used-car lot," she said. "I'm sorry, Ig."

"It's my fault, guys," said Fang, and my gaze swiveled around. "I thought I'd cracked the code, but obviously I was totally off my gourd."

I briefly wondered how much of that he was telling us, and how much he was telling himself.

"Well, if you were wrong," Nudge put in, "then we don't have to be disappointed, right? It just means we still don't know."

"Yeah, that's right, Nudge," Max said, and I was glad they were trying to ease the situation.

"This sucks!" Iggy suddenly shouted, angered voice echoing off of the glass storefronts. He punched the telephone pole in front of him, the wood shaking from the force. He winced, pulling his hand back, and I could clearly see scraped skin and bloody knuckles.

"I'm sorry, Ig —," Max started.

"I don't care if you're sorry!" Iggy shouted, spinning around to face her. "Everyone's sorry! That doesn't matter! What matters is that we find where we belong!" He stormed away from us, boots kicking up stones in the parking lot. "I mean, I just can't take this anymore!" he yelled, waving his arms and heading back to us. "I need some answers! We can't just keep on wandering from place to place, always on the run, always hunted…" His voice broke, and I looked at him with shock along with the others, eyes hot and throat tight.

I heard my heart pounding, suddenly all-too aware of the emotional tightrope I'd been walking on for who-knew-how-long.

One slip and I'd shatter completely, screaming and sobbing hysterically – just  _waiting_  for someone to put an end to it all.

 _But,_  a part of my mind murmured coaxingly.  _Why wait for yourself to fall? Why not_ jump?

I swallowed, blinking rapidly as I tried to get rid of the images my imagination was putting in my head. Images of plummeting through the air, lower and lower and closer to the ground, but not even once thinking to unfurl my wings.

Max walked forward and moved to embrace him, but he pushed her away.

"We  _all_  want answers, Iggy," she said, frowning. I panicked internally, trying to cling to her words so I wouldn't think, wouldn't fall – wouldn't  _jump_. "It's just – we have to stick together. We won't stop looking for your parents, I swear."

"It's different for you," Iggy said, voice quiet and bitter – resentful. "You don't know what it's like. Yeah, I make jokes, I'm the blind kid – but don't you see? Every time we move on, I'm lost all over again. You guys – it's so much easier for you. Even your lost isn't as bad as  _my_  lost, you know?"

"We're your eyes, Iggy," said the Gasman, tone small and anxious. "You don't need to see when you've got us."

"Yeah, but I won't always  _have_  you!" Iggy said, voice rising back into a shout. "What happens if you get killed? Of course I need to see, you idiot! I  _remember_ seeing! I know what it's like! I don't have it anymore, and I won't ever have it again. And someday I'm going to lose you, lose all of you – and when that happens, I'll lose…myself."

Face twisted with rage, he swept one arm down to pick up a chunk of asphalt. Whirling around, he threw it hard against a storefront, where it shattered one of the big glass windows. Alarms started to go off.

"Uh-oh," he muttered.

"Let's split," Fang said. The younger kids took off, and Total jumped into Max's arms where she zipped him into her jacket.

"No," said Iggy, and she skidded to a halt.

"What? Come on, Iggy," Max said. "The alarm's going off."

"I know. I'm not  _deaf_  too," he responded bitterly. "I don't care. Let them find me, take me now. It doesn't matter. Nothing matters."

With that, he sat down on the curb. The sharp sounds of police sirens were wailing towards us.

"Iggy," I called out, voice wavering in multiple places and not sounding like my own. "We need to go.  _Now_."

"Let's  _go_ ," Fang insisted. "Get  _up._ "

"Give me one good reason," Iggy said, dropping his head into his hands.

Max tossed Total to Fang, making the dog yip as he was grabbed, startled. "You guys go," she ordered.

Fang took off, but my feet remained rooted to the spot. I couldn't bring myself to move, to do anything but stare at the two like they had the solutions to all the problems I held.

" _Go,_ " she repeated.

That one word knocked me out of the trance, and I nodded numbly, soon joining the flock where they hovered nearby. The sirens were getting closer.

Max leaned down. "Listen, Iggy," she said tensely, the sirens making it difficult to hear what she was saying when the volume peaked. "I'm sorry about tonight. I know how disappointed you are. We're all disappointed. And I'm sorry you're blind. I remember when you weren't, and I can't even imagine what it's like to lose that. I'm sorry we're mutant bird freaks, I'm sorry we don't have parents, I'm sorry we have Erasers and people trying to kill us all the time.

"But if you think I'm going to let you give up on us now, you've got another thing coming. Yes, you're a blind mutant freak, but you're  _my_  blind mutant freak, and you're coming with me,  _now_ , you're coming with  _us_  right  _now_ , or I swear I will kick your skinny white ass from here to the middle of next week."

Iggy raised his head, alternating flashes of blue and red telling us how close the cops were getting.

"Iggy, I  _need_  you," Max continued urgently. "I  _love_  you. I need  _all_ of you, all five of you, to feel whole myself. Now get up, before I kill you."

Iggy stood, face unreadable. "Well, when you put it that way…"

Max grabbed his hand and they ran around to the back of the mall, taking off fast and racing towards the shadows of the parking lot where we quickly met them. We stayed high, looking down to see the two cop cars zoom into the parking lot.

We turned and headed back towards Anne's, back to where we'd left not even an hour ago.

" _We're_  your family," Max told Iggy, and I could feel my chest tighten. "We'll always be your family."

"I know." He sniffed and rubbed his sleeve across his eyes.

"Let's go  _fast_ ," Total said.

* * *

"Hey, Ig?" I carefully rapped my knuckles against his door before poking my head in, seeing him sitting on the edge of his bed. "Can I talk to you?"

He looked up at me, clearly shocked, but after that he sent me raised eyebrows nothing else.

I cleared my throat before stepping inside, shutting the door behind me and nervously leaning against the wall next to it.

"Look, about tonight—" I started clumsily, words stumbling over each other. "I'm not— I'm not trying to argue with you, but…"

"But  _what?_ " Iggy said, looking up at me with a confused, almost defensive expression.

I swallowed thickly and shook my head, eyes burning as his words from earlier ran through my head.

_What matters is that we find where we belong!_

_But I won't always_ have  _you!_

_And someday I'm going to lose you, lose all of you – and when that happens, I'll lose…myself._

_It doesn't matter._

_Nothing matters._

"It's just…" I shifted from foot to foot before sitting on the edge of the bed, far away from him. "Coming from you, what you said just… doesn't  _fit_."

I swallowed again and quickly continued before he could interrupt, shaking hands clenched into fists. "I mean," my voice broke, and I blinked away tears. "You  _have_  a family, Iggy. So  _what_  if you're not related?"

My voice suddenly veered into a bitter snap, and I reminded myself to get back on track.

"The point is, Ig," I said quietly, looking over at him even though it made it worse, made it  _harder._  "They  _won't_  leave you. Not now, not ever. And, despite what you think, you  _do_  have somewhere you belong."

"With the flock," I whispered, throat burning while my voice continued to crack. I swallowed and frustratingly wiped away tears before they could fall. "With your  _family._ "

He didn't say anything, but the expression on his face –contemplative, wondering,  _sympathetic_ – made it hard not to start sobbing and I quickly looked away.

I drew in a shaky breath and all but jumped to my feet, resisting the urge to just  _run_  and never sto—

There was a careful hand around my wrist, and I quickly whipped around, yanking my arm back.

Iggy was staring at me, with something in his eyes that reminded me of when I watched him and Gazzy work on new bomb designs.

"Hold on," he said, smiling even though there was a scowl on his face. "Aren't you going to say goodnight first?"

"Um," I gave him a puzzled look, knowing without looking in a mirror that my expression was totally dumbfounded. "Goodni—"

Iggy shook his head, smile wide. "I take it you don't know yet?"

"Seeing as I have no idea what you're talking about," I said slowly, sending him an irritated look. "No, I don't."

He smirked, like he was about to laugh, but only patted the space next to him on the bed. Confused, I sat back down a foot away.

"Well?" I inquired dryly, raising an eyebrow.

"We have our own… _goodnight ritual_ , you could say." He said, eyes mischievous as he twisted around to face me, holding his right hand out in a fist.

"Yuh-huh," I drawled, eyes on the extended limb. "And…?"

" _And_ ," he said, smile widening. "This is where you put your right fist on top."

It suddenly dawned on me, and I was left gaping at him, chest tight and eyes on fire.

"Come on," he egged, holding his arm out a little farther.

I nodded repeatedly, putting my right fist on top of his as I kept thinking about how this  _couldn't_  be happening.

"Despite what you think," he said, in a clearly intended echo of what I told him earlier. He tapped the back of my fist with his free one, and after an encouraging nod I did the same and we let our hands drop. "You  _do_  have somewhere you belong."

Grinning, he spread his arms out, and I instinctively knew he wasn't  _just_  motioning to himself, or the room, or anything else.

"With us," he said, eyes silently telling me that I should believe him, because it was  _true. "_ With your friends."

All of a sudden I burst out laughing, shoulders shaking as I coughed and gasped for air. I dropped my face into my hands, face aching as tears streamed down my face.

Iggy placed his hand on my shoulder, and I looked up at him, relieved to see the relaxed smile on his face.

"Yeah?" I croaked, acknowledging him.

"Just remember that, alright?" he said, grinning widely and holding his right fist out again.

I let out a hoarse laugh, scratching my throat, as we stacked and tapped fists again. "Got it," I said, sniffing.


	7. First Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yowch. It's been almost a month. =_=
> 
> I mean, that's faster than most stories, and my chapters are long, but I'm disappointing myself, I guess. :/
> 
> Also! I've added a few pages to the tumblr (mrboaf), and in case any of you guys were confused ('cause I was when I looked at it), the links to the other pages, including the ask and submit, are at the very bottom of the page. And I'm about to also add this story to wattpad, which you can thank my friend for - she's always on it on her phone. |3
> 
> And! I'll have my Kingdom Hearts story up soon, and after that I'll go back to finishing the first chapter of my Generator Rex one. Both (like all of my fanfictions) are OC-insert, and since you're reading this I figure you guys'll like it.

The next day, I wasn't sure whether to be surprised or not that what had happened wasn't mentioned. Of course, it's not like I'd know since I doubt any one of them would talk about it publicly, but even then I could just  _feel_  that no one had went to Iggy about it.

I mean, I had  _tried_  to, but it had wound up going one-eighty with  _him_ comforting  _me._ Talk about turning the tables.

But then, I'd be lying if I said I was upset about it.

Both of us had insecurities that we were sick of bottling up, so I couldn't blame him for letting it out like he had. He was… well, I wasn't sure exactly  _how_  sensitive he was about his blindness beyond the fact he wished he could see.

If his easily ignoring the fact I'd clearly gone to help  _him_  in favor of offering me emotional support was any clue, I figured it was safe to say that his problems were more about how he held his true feelings back. Since he'd vented like he had, it wasn't much of a problem anymore.

And mine?

…Not so much.

No one had treated me with any sort of sympathy or kindness until I was four, but even then I rarely saw  _her_  and she'd been transferred to a different project after the flock had escaped. I hadn't seen Ari after that, either – his whitecoat dad had probably stopped bringing him since he was starting to get old enough to remember what was going on at the School.

So of course, the idea that someone would treat me like anything close to a human being because they  _wanted_ to, let alone to be my  _"friend"_  had me resisting the urge to burst out laughing whenever I heard it.

At least, it  _had._

The longer I spent with the flock, the less I thought of what was likely and what wasn't. At first I'd thought they'd ditch me or I'd have to ditch them. But then the voice in the back of my head suggesting I got to join them had gone from being tiny and rare to loud and far-too-frequent.

I hadn't really understood why – it could've been because my chances were getting better, or it could've been simply because the more it was brought up in my head, the more I thought about it.

But, I hadn't really understood why that was until last night, when my lack of sleep left me going over what had happened with Iggy over and over again.

I wasn't so desperate to join the flock because I wanted companionship – it was because I  _needed_  it.

Because in all honesty, I'd be lying if I said the reason I was so jealous of the flock was because they'd gotten out.

I'd only been so jealous of them because they'd  _always_ had someone with them. Someone to metaphorically hold their hand and give them hope that, no matter how bad things were, they could be better.

_She_  and Ari hadn't done that, not really. I mean, I saw them and they both helped me out and tried to comfort me, but they didn't know what it was like – to ache constantly from wounds, from  _experiments,_ and be unable to do anything about it except cower in your cage.

To have the chance to know people who really knew what it felt like, to be  _close_  to them, would be like suddenly breathing for the first time in your life.

That was what it actually felt like, kind of.

Even if they didn't appreciate it like I did.

Though, in a way, I was glad they didn't. If they did, then there wouldn't be anything that I could gain from being alone for so long – there wouldn't have been a point to it.

And  _that_  was almost as horrifying as the idea being alone again.

There was a careful poke on my arm, and I turned to see Angel grinning encouragingly. I smirked back awkwardly, embarrassed and grateful how she'd make sure to give me a little silent reinforcement whenever I thought a little too deep, a little too dark.

And everyone says having a six-year-old mind reader around would be a bad thing.

"What is  _this_?" Max blurted out, and I pressed my lips together, stifling laughter. "I mean – looks good. Smells good." She sat down at her usual seat at the table and held out her plate. "Is that broccoli? Yum."

Anne scooped a spoonful of the almost casserole-like food onto her plate. There were peas and maybe a carrot, as well as browned chunk of meat.

Max picked up her fork and put a smile on her face. "Thanks for making dinner, Anne," she said, taking her first bite.

"Uh-huh," Anne said, looking at her wryly. "At least I made a lot of it. I'm learning."

"It's fine," she said with her still-full mouth, waving her fork in the air. "'S great."

Anne rolled her eyes and served us our food after we got our plates. We all cleaned our plates twice, and I nearly laughed at the almost comical look of pride on Anne's face after we all finished.

She got up and left the table, bringing out an apple pie.

"I  _love_  apple pie!" Nudge said excitedly.

"Do you have two of them?" Gazzy's eyes flicked around anxiously, and I could practically see the gears turn in his head as he mentally divided it.

Anne walked away again and brought over a second one. "I told you, I'm learning."

The eight-year-old punched the air. "Yes!"

"I'd like to talk to you guys," Anne said, cutting a pie into individual slices. "Sort of a family meeting."

I held back a grimace, wondering if she felt as if she was actually a part of the "family" or not.

"You've all done beautifully here," she said, getting back in her chair. "You've adjusted better than I thought possible. And I find I'm enjoying it more than I ever imagined."

I swallowed and gripped my hands into fists, a sinking feeling in my stomach. Compliments like that were either followed by a "but" or some happy announcement. An announcement that I could already tell would only be happy on one side.

"I think we're ready to take the next step," she went on, looking around at us.

I could hear my heart thud in my ears, like a drum roll before the long-awaited reveal. The long- _dreaded_  reveal.

"So I've enrolled you in school."

I chocked on air, a hand going to my throat as I felt my heart skip a beat. What the _hell_ was she thinking?

Fang burst out laughing. "Whoa, you had us going there for a minute," he said.

"I'm not kidding, Nick," Anne said quietly. "There's an excellent school nearby. It would be perfectly safe. You could meet other people your age, interact with them. And – let's face it: Your education has been spotty at best."

I swallowed and looked away from the woman, thinking of all the lessons with  _her_. Reading, writing, mathematics, science…

Anything and everything  _she_ 'd told me I'd need when I got older, and I'd start to learn more complex concepts and ideas.

As if she'd already known that I'd get out.

"School?" Nudge chocked out. "You mean, like, at a  _school?_ "

"Going to a real school, with other people?" Angel said, frowning in concern.

"Holy frijoles," I heard Total mutter under the table.

"You'll start on Monday," Anne said briskly, avoiding our eyes as she gathered the empty plates. "I'll pick up your uniforms tomorrow."

Silently, Max shoved her chair away from the table and stormed over to the back door. The slam of the door resounded in the quiet room, and the younger kids exchanged disbelieving glances.

A second later I found myself standing up, my chair nearly tipping backwards as I felt my arms shaking.

"Sarah—" Anne started, looking almost hurt.

"I'm going to bed," I snapped, pushing past her harshly and stomping my feet with every step up the stairs.

I liked Anne, and I considered her a friend just as much as I did the members of the flock.

But she  _really_  needed to learn her boundaries.

* * *

There were plenty of things I didn't get.

Like how no one ever thought of making the rich only kind-of-rich and not swimming-in-money-rich and balancing out the wealth of the country. Or putting  _all_  of the surplus money in a savings account, letting the interest build it up impossibly high, and use it to pay off the nation's debt. Or stopping poverty, starvation, and/or homelessness.

But, most outrageous of all, how someone could possibly be even a  _little_ excited for their first day of school.

When I trudged down the stairs in my uniform –a white blouse with, believe it or not, a fricking  _plaid skirt_ – I had half a mind to just go "To hell with it," and ditch Anne's house earlier than expected.

"Can we play hooky?" I heard Iggy mutter as I walked into the kitchen, seeing him scramble eggs.

"Somehow I suspect they're picky about that," Max said, dropping more bread into the toaster. "I bet they'd call Anne."

" _Pfff,_ " I said tiredly, sliding into a stool before folding my arms on the counter and using them as a pillow. "That sucks."

"No kidding," the flock leader grumbled back.

"I look like prep school Barbie," Nudge complained, coming into the room. There was a short pause before she continued. "Actually,  _you_ look like prep school Barbie. I'm just Barbie's  _friend._ "

She was being positively cheeky, but didn't sound even  _close_  to guilty.

I burst out laughing, burying my head farther in my arms as my side started to ache. I felt eyes burning into the back of my thankfully-not-blonde head, but it only made me laugh harder.

Someone else walked in after that, but I was too lazy to check who with my still-sore side. There was the clatter of a plate, and after a few moments there was a series of faint clacks off to my side.

"Woof!" Total mocked, before chuckling to himself. I snorted, thinking of how much the two images clashed – a dog barking as he ate leftover food, and a dog  _talking_ as he sat on a stool.

"Hey, Ange," I said groggily, words muffled by my arms. I heard her giggle as something slid on the counter before bumping into my arm, the warm surface nearly scalding me through the fabric of my shirt.

I sat up, slouching as I stared drowsily at the countertop, swaying from side to side a bit. It was funny, really, how the one time I slept like a rock was the one time I actually  _had_  to get up.

"Angel?" Max said, bringing her a cup of coffee. She lowered her voice, and I zoned her out after that.

I blinked blearily a few times, yawning loudly before I reached for the cup of coffee. I tipped my head back and finished it in one swig, shuddering as the caffeine made its way into my system.

Fortunately, though, it got rid of my sleepiness – even if the temperature had killed a good portion of my taste buds. And when I ran my tongue over my teeth, testing how many of the nerve endings had been fried, I realized the skin on the roof of my mouth was starting to peel off in strips.

My lip curled, and I bit back a groan.

I was  _so_ not looking forward to scraping that off.

Max stood up, and I looked over at her in sync with the others. "That goes for all of us," she said quietly, eyes flicking between everyone. "Try to blend, people. Don't give anyone ammo to use against us."

I sighed and nodded my head, giving her a thumbs up while the flock gave their own "Okay,"-s with various amounts of enthusiasm. Or lack thereof.

"Goodness – you're all up," Anne said, making her way into the kitchen. Ironic, considering how you'd think she'd be up and about before any of us.

She looked around at us –either eating the food we'd made or putting it away– and smiled ruefully. "This beats frozen waffles. Thanks, Jeff. Oh, and Jeff – I meant to tell you. You and Nick will be in the same class. It'll help you get your bearings."

Iggy's face flushed, and while I'd  _meant_  to frown, having to bite back a giggle made it hard to keep a straight face.

"Can Total come?" Angel asked.

Angel walked over and straightened Angel's collar. "Nope," she said bluntly, before walking over to the cabinet and taking out a mug.

"I'll be fine. Chase some ducks or something," Total whispered, and Angel patted his head.

"This uniform is so uncool," said Nudge, sighing as she crossed her arms pointedly.

"I know. Fortunately you'll be surrounded by a whole bunch of other uncool uniforms," Anne said, almost teasingly, before she frowned. "Ariel, are you drinking coffee?"

"Uh-huh," Angel said, taking a long sip as if saying,  _Just_ try _and get me to stop. I dare you._ "Get jump started for first grade."

Max sighed suddenly, before getting a bowl and filling it with coffee before adding milk and two cubes of sugar. She set it in front of Total, and he lapped it up happily.

I twitched and tried to pass the apparently non-toxicity of the drink for the dog as the work of the whitecoats. I mean, just him being  _able_  to produce the wide range of vocal noises needed to speak said something big had been done to him.

…I wonder if he realized he could choke yet?

Snickering at the thought, I carefully pet the Scottie on his furry head. He paused to give me a deadpan look –which wasn't so successful with coffee dripping off of his chin– before he went back to enjoying his drink.

"Okay," Anne said, putting her mug in the sink. "I'll bring the car around front. Wear jackets – it's chilly this morning."

I sighed and stood, only to stiffen and almost let out a stream of curses when I realized something.

Anne was  _driving_ us to school.

Oh,  _hell._

* * *

While the ride to the school was silent, it was short. Which I couldn't be more thankful for – the last thing I needed was to have to go to school shaking like a leaf and on the border of having a panic attack everyday.

Of course, sitting in the more-open front seat next to Anne with my gaze glued to the window definitely helped.

When we got to the building, I realized we'd seen it before. It was hard to tell compared to an aerial view, but it was still obvious.

It looked like a large private house made out of cream-colored stone, and there was ivy growing up one wall. The rest of the greenery on the grounds was trimmed perfectly, and I couldn't help but wonder how long it had taken to get it done.

All in all, it looked like one those places kids would be breaking into at night because they thought it was haunted.

The car slid into the drop-off line, and my stomach clenched to the point I thought I might barf.

"Okay, kids," Anne said. "They're expecting you. All the paperwork is done." She looked back at the flock, who was just as tense as I was in the back seats.

"I know it seems scary," she said gently, eyes flicking to me as she smiled softly. "But it'll really be okay. Please just give it a chance. And I'll have a treat waiting for you at home this afternoon. We clear on how you'll get home?"

I managed a nod, but even that had me feeling so lightheaded I just might've passed out in my car seat.

"It's about a ten-minute  _walk_ ," Anne confirmed for us. "And here we are." She pulled up to the curb, and I rushed out of the car ahead of the others. I swallowed hard, seeing all the kids –all the  _people_ – filing in through the double doors, and I felt my legs shake as I wobbled a bit.

"Here we go," Max muttered, taking Nudge and Angel's hands in her own as we started to walk towards the school.

' _This is gonna suck,'_ I called out mentally to the others, throat too tight for me to speak as I almost instinctively made sure to link them all together.

Almost everyone immediately jumped or stiffened, but they quickly relaxed once they realized what was going on.

' _Yuh-huh_ , _'_ Gazzy sighed, shoulders slumping. I let out a nervous, way-too-high laugh before reaching over to ruffle his hair.

He ducked out of the way, looking over to stick his tongue out at me.

' _This is weird,_ ' Iggy said, his brow furrowed.  _'I mean— it_ sounds _like we're all talking, but it's all…'_

' _Echo-y?'_ I provided, forcing my knees to keep from buckling as we passed through the large doorway.

The walls were, luckily,  _off_ -white, while the carpet was a dark color that looked like it couldn't decide whether it was a blue-gray or a  _really_  worn out black.

' _Yeah,'_ he said, cracking a smile.  _'_ Echo-y. _'_

I narrowed my eyes at him, nearly bolting when one of the teachers walked up to us.  _'Are you mocking me?'_ I said, raising an eyebrow as I usually did, even though my hands started to shake and I felt myself break out in a nervous sweat.

How Anne could think I'd be okay doing something that  _required_  me to do practically nothing but sit down, shut up, and listen to teachers talk for eight hours every weekday in a building filled with  _hundreds_ of kids was beyond me.

' _Of course not,'_ Iggy responded, turning to give me a surprisingly good combination of a smile-scowl, and I probably would've burst out laughing if I wasn't so tense.

Well, either that or I'd have given him a thwack upside the head.

"Zephyr, is it?" A woman dressed in tweed smiled at us uncertainly. She introduced herself as Ms. Cvelbar, and I quickly cut off the mental links.

"Yeah?" Gazzy said, hiding his cautiousness. "That's me."

The teacher's smile widened. "Zephyr, you're with me," she said, holding out a hand. "Come along, dear."

He walked away with her, and I felt faintly nauseous. I clamped my eyes shut and silently timed my breaths, trying to calm down.

Honestly, the whole going-to-normal-school thing wouldn't have been so bad if we didn't have to split up. But being separated from some of the only people who I could relax around  _really_ wasn't helping.

"Nick? And Jeff? I'm Mrs. Cheatham. Welcome to our school. Come with me and I'll show you your classroom," I heard another teacher chirp pleasantly.

I swallowed, feeling my heart thud rapidly as they went down the hall, a pain steadily blooming behind my eyes.

"Sarah?" I blinked repeatedly and looked up at the wiry teacher, trying to will the headache away as she smiled at me. "I'm Mrs. Thompson. Now, if you'll follow me,"

She turned on her heel and started down the hall, and I made my way after her. Her strides were long and rapid, almost excited, but I had no problem keeping up with her.

"How are you?" she asked suddenly, looking over to grin at me. "Well, besides nervous."

"Fine," I said, frowning at her charismatic behavior. It was welcoming, practically mischievous, and I couldn't help but wonder how she could keep it up when she taught teenagers for a living.

"Good," her smile only widened.

* * *

The final bell rang, and I waited for the other kids to rush out first so I wouldn't get trapped in the crowd or bumped into every second. Having serious claustrophobia and a no-touching issue was going to be a  _huge_ problem in a place packed with so many people.

The second I saw a break in the crowds, I slid in between way-too-slow bodies and started hugging the walls. Everyone seemed to stay away from them, so I had both a clear path and a person-free zone.

Once I got out of the horrid building, I all but ran for a more open area that was still visible from the main entrance. No matter how great our visions could be, we still couldn't see something that wasn't in our line of sight.

Angel skipped up to me almost immediately, the other kids "coincidentally" not blocking her path. Her squawking-in-panic brother managed to duck through the crowds in only a couple dozen seconds. I heard Nudge's loud "Excuse me!"-s before I saw her.

"That was fast," I commented, raising an eyebrow as I only barely saw Iggy, Max, and Fang in the very back of the herd.

Angel beamed, as if she'd just told me a secret that she knew I'd keep.  _'You did,'_ I said blankly, knowing there was no point to be sarcastic or ask her if she hadn't.

She was six years old –too young for her moral compass to have developed– on top of being a mind reader. Asking her to  _not_ use something to her advantage was like asking a cheetah to hunt without using its speed.

Even if said advantage was cheating via other people's minds.

I sighed and looked towards the other blond, who grinned excitedly like he didn't have a care in the world.

Oh, no.

My eyebrow rose higher, and the muscles in the side of my face started to ache. "What did you do?" while most people might've expected a test cheated on, or a teacher lied to, I knew better.

His face fell, blue eyes widening as he practically squirmed in his own skin.

None of us would've done anything so superficial, not without a subtle flare, or some kind of bang.

And, in Gazzy's –and Iggy's– case, that was quite literal in most scenarios. Which, despite Max's orders and all of our knowing better, no doubt included whatever had happened today.

" _Well?_ " I said sternly, narrowing my eyes as I scowled at him. The boy blushed and looked down as he tried to inch behind Nudge, only for her to give him an  _I don't think so_ , look and step away.

He acted as if he hadn't heard me.

I looked up, exasperated, and saw that the rest of the flock was only a couple moments away from arriving. Except, of  _course_ , for the one who was walking purposely slow and kept his head turned to the side, face faintly pink.

I stifled laughter and couldn't keep my face straight when I realized that Iggy had been listening in. And, even funnier, was the fact that they  _weren't_  feeling guilty because of whatever the hell they'd done.

They were feeling  _embarrassed_  because was I scolding them instead of cheering them on.

While I knew I was better friends with them than the others due to how much more time I spent with them –which, initially, had been due to Gazzy's resemblance to Ari–, I hadn't really realized that I'd made myself an unofficial third member to their little bomb-building duo. Even if I knew practically nothing about making explosives beyond the fact that it was just violent chemical reactions.

So, by extension, that meant I was supposed to besupportive of their possibly extremely dangerous antics. And, y'know,  _not_ all logical and Max-like-responsible.

I coughed and hacked into my hand until I felt acid rise in my throat, shoulders shaking as I kept myself from laughing. Somehow.

Because honestly I had  _no_ idea how I was able to – they were acting like little kids caught with their hands in the cookie jar. It was simultaneously one of the  _funniest_ things I'd ever seen, and one of the  _cutest._

I could feel all of them staring at me like I was crazy, and I quickly straightened and cleared my throat, though giggles kept escaping me and both corners of my mouth refused to stay down at the same town.

"What?" I asked, pointedly looking away from the two bomb-builders and clearing my throat again as I chocked on held-back laughter.

No one said anything, so I spun on my heel and started to walk back home as the others made their way after me.

* * *

"So," I said a few minutes later, when I was able to look at the troublemakers without having the urge to burst out laughing. "What  _did_ you guys do?"

The two in question faltered slightly, while Max glared at the air in front of her.

"A stink bomb," she said briskly, and her eyes narrowed in annoyance. "They got sent to the principal's office, and I had to go with them."

"Wow," I said, letting out a low whistle and raising my eyebrows. " _Just_ a stink bomb?" I sent the two a quizzical look before continuing. "I mean, I get the whole 'no property damage' thing, but why not use—"

"Hush," Max glowered at me in warning and irritation, while I could only look back at her sheepishly.

"He's such a jerk," the Gasman huffed. "The principal."

"Oh, he can't be  _that_ bad," I tried to reason, only for the three who'd met him to turn to stare at me. "…He is, isn't he?"

Gazzy nodded, scowling. "Yuh-huh," he said. "He just hates kids an—"

Suddenly there was an all-too-familiar wicked gleam in his eye, and he grinned widely before scrunching his face up and puffing out his cheeks.

"You ignorant little  _sah-vages_ ," he sneered, in the voice of the would-be principal. It was deep, with an undertone of grating arrogance that made me glad I hadn't seen him.

Decking an authority figure in the face would  _probably_  lead to way more trouble than just a silly stink bomb.

I coughed on the air for a second before I burst out laughing, Nudge and Angel quickly joining in.

"You malignant little  _fiends_ ," he went on, and even the frustrated Max started laughing.

"But, sir," Gazzy continued in her voice, and I was all but screeching at the overly-innocent tone to it. "Our parents are missionaries. Lying is the Tenth Commandment. They're  _innocent_ of all wrongdoing. What's a stink bomb?"

I was hunched over, arms around my waist as I gasped for air. The second I'd get enough to breathe, I'd just laugh more and it'd start all over again.

Hell, even  _Fang_ was laughing!

Angel had to tug me along after them like a stubborn dog on a leash, but I didn't really care.

"Is lying really the Tenth Commandment?" Iggy asked.

"No idea," Max said, and without Gazzy going on anymore I could catch my breath and stand. Well, sort of. "Let's cut into the woods. This road's making me nervous."

We veered off the main road and headed into the woods at an angle, knowing we'd wind up at one of Anne's orchards soon enough.

"So who really did set off the stink bomb?" Nudge asked, and I couldn't help but snort.

Max rolled her eyes. "They did, of course." She glared at Gazzy, annoyed. "I don't know how, I don't know why. I just know they did."

"Well, yes," Gazzy finally admitted, if a bit timid. "This kid was a total jerk to me on the playground, and someone stuck a Kick Me sign on the back of Iggy's shirt."

I scowled, and in the back of my mind decided punching the principal wasn't the most troublesome thing that could happen. Getting in a fight and most likely suspended? Definitely.

"I told you I'd take care of that," Fang said to Iggy.

Max heaved a sigh. "Guys, you're going to meet jerks in every situation. For the rest of your lives. But you can't be doing stuff like stink bombs – not right now. We're trying to blend, remember? We're trying to not make waves, to not stick out. So making a stink bomb, setting it off, and getting caught was  _not_  the right way to go."

"Sorry, Max," Gazzy said, trying to be sincere but not quite meaning it.

"Listen, you two," she said sternly as we crested a ridge, the border of Anne's property only a little ways off. "You put us all at risk. From now on you're going to toe the line at the stupid school or you're going to answer to me. Got it?"

"Got it," Gazzy mumbled.

"Yeah, got it," said Iggy reluctantly. "We'll be more stupid and idiotic in the future. We'll blend."

"Good."

The problem settled, the rest of the walk was quiet besides the crunching of leaves or snapping of twigs under our feet.

"I got a phone call," Anne said, before we could even finish hanging up our jackets in the hall. "I guess you're all adjusting. Well, anyway. Come into the kitchen. There's hot chocolate and cookies."

My stomach growled in agreement with the idea, and my legs practically moved themselves towards the kitchen, whether the others would come with me or not.

"Let me just say that I'm very disappointed in your behavior," Anne said as she started to pour mugs of hot chocolate. When she passed me mine I took a deep gulp, no doubt frying any of my taste buds that had survived the earlier ordeal. Either way it was delicious, and I licked the frothy, marshmallow foam from my upper lip.

She opened a package of chocolate-chip cookies and put it on a plate on the table. The pre-made baked goods were sweet even if they were hard, the sugar giving it a very fine and smooth grainy texture. The chocolate chips kept the cookies from being too dry, and were so small they melted the second you bit into them.

It was probably the best thing I'd ever had.

"I could show you how to make cookies from scratch," Max said, and I choked on the piece of cookie in my mouth. I coughed it out of my windpipe before downing it with more hot chocolate, the sweet sliding back down the right way.

"There's a recipe on the back of the chip package," she mumbled defensively at our stares, taking another cookie.

"I'd like that, Max. Thanks," said Anne, her voice softer. She gave the girl a smile before going to the sink.

"Stink bomb," Total chortled, when his jaw wasn't working to crunch up bites of cookie. "That must've been great."

I smirked and jabbed him with my elbow. He only jumped back before twisting around, lying down over the crook in my arm like a giant, furry bracelet.

A smug, comfortable, cookie-chomping bracelet.

 


End file.
